Much to Overcome
by TheGoodPA
Summary: His name, his home, his condition. He had quite a bit to overcome.
1. Chapter 1

Harry checked his watch as he made his way down the hall of St. Mungo's Hospital pediatric ward. He definitely did not expect his afternoon to carry on like this. The moment he'd gotten word about the incident, he'd apparated from work to get there and support his loved ones. This was the first time something like this had happened—it was just another newfound joy of fatherhood, he supposed. Ah, there it was, room 143B. He swung into the room and met eyes with Ginny, who gave a sad smile and sighed. "How is he?" he asked. She nodded over towards the small bed. Their wild-haired little boy was sitting straight up, his face alight with a big smile when he saw his father. "Daddy!" he cried out gleefully. Harry couldn't help but smile as well. James's left arm was all bandaged up and resting in a sling—the result of a mislanded fall while he was playing outside. "James, what happened to you?" Harry asked, sitting beside the child. James gave a big grin, exposing a gap where a baby tooth had fallen out a few days prior. "I tried to fly on a broomstick!" he exclaimed. "I want to be a Seeker like you!" Ginny rolled her eyes. "Love, you're not supposed to practice on mummy's sweeping broom." she explained. "And you certainly should not be jumping from the roof!" Harry looked over at James, raising an eyebrow. "Is that what happened?" he asked. James blushed furiously and shrugged his shoulders, earning another sigh from his parents. A broken arm was certainly not as bad as the accident could have been, but it definitely was going to be a challenge keeping their rambunctious young boy from exacerbating his injury.

A nurse came in carrying a small cup of a green potion and another full of water. "Alright my dear," she instructed, setting the items down on the table beside James's bed. "Take a big drink of all the potion, and then you can have your water right after. It's going to make your arm hurt less." James suspiciously eyed the green potion. The moment the nurse bustled out of the room, he looked at his father and begged, "Please don't make me drink it, daddy." Ginny took the small cup from the table and sat beside her son on the bed, raising it to his lips. "Take one big sip, and then it'll be all done. Then you can have your water to wash it down. Alright? Hold your water for yourself at the ready." James picked up the cup of water in his bandaged hand. Immediately, it slipped from his sore fingers and landed all over his lap. All over the bed. "Uh-oh!" he cried out. Harry salvaged the cup, but promised his son he'd go get another water before he had to take the potion. He headed out to the desk where all of the nurses were performing their tasks.

Harry approached a nurse and explained the situation. "Oh dear!" she exclaimed. "I'll be right back with a change of linens and a new cup of water. Just wait right here." Harry thanked her and leaned on the desk. Rubbing his eyes, he regretted that he hadn't had stronger tea that morning to keep him awake. "Excuse me," he heard a soft male voice say from nearby. "We're ready to try the blood draw again." Out of curiosity, Harry raised his head to see the speaker who seemed to have such a softly broken voice that sounded both tired and strained. His heart stopped for a moment. He knew that man. That thin frame clothed in all black, pale skin even more translucent against the harsh contrast. That sleek white-blonde hair that tried to hide dark-circled eyes. Draco Malfoy. But what would he possibly be doing here in St. Mungo's, in a pediatric ward? Before Harry could even collect himself and pull his eyes away, Draco also happened to look up and make eye contact with him. His face fell. He immediately turned away and started to head down the hallway. Something inside Harry, and he had no idea what, told him to follow the man—they hadn't spoken in years. He caught up to Draco, stopped him with a hand on his arm. Draco recoiled instantly. When he looked at Harry he had so much unbelievable fear and sadness in his heavy eyes. "W-What…" Harry began quietly. "What are you doing here?" Draco set his jaw, clearly anxious. He gave a slight shake of his head. "D-Do you have children?" Harry went on.

Draco cleared his throat softly, stepping back and leaning against the wall. His eyes closed as he sighed. "A son," he murmured softly. Why did his voice sound so… Harry let go of his arm in hopes that it would make Draco relax a bit. "He's just turned three." he added. There were tears in his eyes. Harry thought for a moment—Albus had just turned three as well. What were the odds that both of them had a child within the same year? "Is he…alright?" he asked. Draco bit his lip and avoided eye contact in every way possible. He ever so slightly shook his head. It was a moment before he spoke again. "He hasn't been home yet,"

"How long has he been here?"

"Since he was born."

Harry froze. What on earth? Three years in a hospital? Draco rubbed his face with the back of his hand. "He was born very early and just never properly developed. He's just got…loads of health issues." Harry was a bit stunned. He hadn't seen Draco this despondent and worried since just before the Battle of Hogwarts. But obviously, he had every right to be—this was a big burden to have to carry. Again, Draco scrubbed at his face. "I don't want any pity." he firmly stated. Before Harry could even respond, he heard someone gently call out Draco's name from behind him. He turned around. Narcissa Malfoy stopped in her tracks when she realized it was Harry that her son was speaking with. She hadn't aged a day, it seemed. Still graceful and quietly beautiful. Still composed and guarded. She gave a head nod towards him in respect. Without another word, she slipped her hand around Draco's thin arm and guided him away towards a room farther down the hall. Harry couldn't believe the encounter that he'd just had with his former enemy—Draco was still having such a difficult time. On one hand, Harry did pity him—with everything he'd endured in his younger years and had to come to terms with, he still wasn't being afforded a normal life with marriage and children. But on the other hand, he slightly admired him—he hadn't given up on his life yet. He was still surviving. Persevering. Managing.

Harry's attention snapped out of its fog and reminded him that James and Ginny were probably about to battle over the potion he was supposed to be taking, and he knew he needed to be there to referee. As he made his way back to James's room, he paused. He turned around. Narcissa and Draco had entered room 161—curiosity directed him to pass by and look inside as discreetly as possible. Why, he didn't know. It was just this driving force probably stemmed from their boyhood escapades of following one another and keeping tabs on each other in rivalry.

When Harry peeked inside the room, he saw three somber adults and one tiny little boy. Draco was sitting on the hospital bed, holding a squirming, panting little blonde child on his lap. His hands pressed the boy's forehead to his own. No one noticed Harry watching from outside. Narcissa pressed a gentle, comforting kiss on Draco's temple as he held his child—the other woman, who Harry assumed had to be Draco's wife, dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. The small child was wearing white restraint mitts strapped around his hands, obviously meant to keep him from pulling out the tube that was led into his nostril, or the many lines feeding potions into his veins. The boy was shaking his head, gasping, making weak babbling sounds as his eyes tried focusing on the man holding him. He was so tiny.

Harry noticed Narcissa looking at him, so he averted his gaze and stepped away from the door. He did not expect her to follow him out to the hallway and softly call out, "Mr. Potter," Harry reddened and tried to find his words. "S-Sorry, I was just…feeling regretful that I didn't extend any offer of assistance to Draco, and I…I didn't want to interrupt when I went back." he explained. Narcissa stepped closer, her eyes on the ground. "Thank you," she murmured. "I would like for Draco to have someone to talk to."

"What's…well, if you don't mind me asking…what's going on with his son? Is that his only child?"

"Yes, Scorpius is his only. He and Astoria tried for so long to conceive and when they did, it was a miracle. Scorpius came…quite a bit earlier than expected. Ever since then it's been issue after issue."

"Draco mentioned he hasn't even been home yet,"

"It's true. He's never left this hospital. He was born deaf, he can't hear us. Just a few months after birth, his eyesight began failing. Now he can only see things that are very very close. His blood is too thin, his skin isn't strong. His lungs can't expand enough on their own. We're fearing the worst, but he's been fighting his entire life. We switch off who stays with him here in the nights."

"Is your husband here too?"

"…Draco hasn't spoken to his father since the war."

Harry understood. Narcissa's dark eyes closed and she folded her arms over one another. A quick glance told Harry that she wasn't wearing a wedding ring anymore. "Please be there for him," she murmured quietly. "He hasn't anyone to lean on. Just please…please help him if he asks. I'm afraid what all of this is doing to him." Harry nodded. A single tear fell from Narcissa's eye but she hid it well. "He's tried so hard to prove himself," she whispered. With a light sniffle, she glanced back up at Harry and gave another polite nod. She turned away and slowly walked back into room 161. He stood where he was, thinking all about what she told him. He definitely didn't feel a burning desire to ever be friends with Draco Malfoy, but the entire situation was making him feel so much emotion towards the boy he once hated. He knew that Narcissa was right—regardless of where things were in the past, Draco couldn't be strong forever through such difficult circumstances. Harry turned around and went back to James's room, eager to get home and tell Ron and Hermione about his encounter.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco stared up at the ceiling as he lay in the dim hospital room, his little Scorpius wheezing softly in his sleep by his side. Draco couldn't stop thinking about his conversation with Harry. He regretted spilling so much emotional and personal information—how could he have become so vulnerable to someone who clearly would hate him for time and all eternity? Draco felt a sting of guilt hit his chest. This was all his fault. If he wasn't such a horrible, _soulless_ person when he was younger, he wouldn't have to live in such fear and anguish. He wouldn't have to keep his son hidden from the world to protect him from the horror of judgment. He wouldn't have to live with the shame of his actions—

Scorpius cried out and stretched his gloved hands forward. Immediately, Draco pulled himself away from his thoughts and offered his hand for the little one to clutch onto. As a tight cough racked his frame, Draco stroked his thin, wispy blonde hair. He pressed his forehead to Scorpius's so that the boy with the hazy vision could see him a little better. "Hi baby," he whispered. The tube that was running into Scorpius's little nostril and down into his tummy was pressing against Draco's cheek as they snuggled. He kissed him. "Baby boy, you are so loved." Scorpius let out a tiny yawn, his eyes drooping closed again. Despite the dark cloud hovering inside of him, Draco couldn't help but smile at the sheer cuteness of his little offspring. His heart broke. Potter now knew that he had a son—and if Potter knew, he'd tell the other Potter and the Weasley and the new Weasley and all their little red-headed spawn. And pretty soon, the entire wizarding world would know that Draco Malfoy, the most cowardly and dreadful man to walk earth, had procreated a child that had an exact copy of his genetics. The world would be ruthless to Scorpius—take all its frustration and hatred out on him. And here, as he held that weak, broken, critically ill little boy in his arms, he knew it only hurt him more as he grew up with it. Draco's throat tightened. Don't cry, don't cry. This isn't something to cry over. His breathing quickened and the cold sweat came over him.

Draco had immediately been admitted to St. Mungo's himself the day after the war ended when he was teenager. He spent several weeks there being treated for the mental torture he'd endured for so long. They'd counseled him and cared for him, and taught him ways to control the panic attacks and constant worry and dread. When he was released, he went home to Malfoy Manor and didn't see much of his father. They just stayed separate from one another. Being back here at St. Mungo's for so long but because of the declining health of his little boy was so difficult on him—he made every possible effort he could to stay secluded and private in the hospital. He never wanted anyone to know anything about him or his family. Especially his poor child. He simply couldn't carry any more guilt or hatred. And yet… he'd gone and blown it all in one day. When he had to see Potter. When he had to open his mouth and tell the truth. Draco tried taking deep, shaky breaths to pace his heart that was off to the races. Ragged tears streamed down his face. Why, just _why?_

Nothing would ever go right for Draco Malfoy. He would always be lonely, always be struggling. There would always be _so much burden_ for him to carry. There wouldn't be any escape—he was doomed to a literal eternity of self-torture and humiliation. Draco gasped in a distressed gulp of air. He realized that in his tense state, he'd begun squeezing Scorpius tighter and tighter towards his chest. He carefully relaxed, shivering as he allowed his arms to open and for his child to adjust. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. There would be no use in lying awake all night, fearing what Harry Potter would say about him. How could it get any worse than what it already was? How could his lonely world get any more sparse?

Draco felt a mitt gently brush against his cheek and pull his face weakly. He opened his eyes and realized that Scorpius was trying to move his face so that he could get closer and see his father through his horrible vision in the dim light. With the tears still streaming, Draco offered a wobbly smile to his boy. Scorpius studied him hard. He focused and strained to make out Draco's face. Suddenly, he leaned forward and placed a gently, tiny kiss on Draco's nose.

It was as if time stopped for the father of the tiny boy who'd hit a milestone. Scorpius had never done any sort of imitation like this before, much less work so hard to make an effort. Affection reciprocated. Draco felt his own lungs breathe a sigh, a sigh of relief. His baby might just have a chance. And maybe he would too—they both might have a way of surviving the treacherous world together.


	3. Chapter 3

The world was a confusing place for Scorpius Malfoy.

Everything through his eyes seemed hazy, distant. He had familiarity of certain touches. Certain smells stood out to him. Somehow, he knew who mama was. Mama was the lady with brown hair that had a light, flowery scent about her, like roses—sometimes she would let him hold a flower she brought to him. They were soft, delicate. They reminded him of mama. There was a man that he knew must've loved him very much because this man squeezed him close. But the man's chest seemed to always be moving rapidly—his eyes were always wet. That thing inside of him that made that _lub-dub_ pulsation was always very fast compared to the other pulses Scorpius could feel. He always smelled softly of wood, maybe a little campfire ash. It was a warm scent that Scorpius felt safe with. It always helped him to fall asleep when that scent was nearby him. He knew there was another lady that loved him very much too. She was gentle, and she had big glistening eyes that looked into his and instilled calmness. She always smelled of cold water running over stone. She had nice hands to hold onto.

Colors were bright to Scorpius. He knew that whenever there were people wearing a lot of white around him, he needed to start crying. These were the people that hurt him—pricked him, moved him, put things in his ears and mouth, put that cold thing up to his chest, wrapped up his hands, made his feet harder to move. But there was a day where things were different. Where the people in white swarmed him and made things hurt so much. But then they disappeared. And something very very bright and warm bathed him from head to toe. It hurt to keep his eyes open. He could tell mama and the man were both holding his hands so he took a few wobbly steps forward. Within an instant, everything changed. The light vanished. Cold swept over him. Mama scooped him up into her arms. Roses. A light breath of air met his ear, causing him to turn his head slightly to find out where it was coming from. He felt he was being carried somewhere with slow steps. When they reached their destination, he felt himself being lowered down onto something soft—something that smelled faintly of dust, ash, and roses. A soft blanket was spread over him, a plush toy tucked under his arm. Scorpius grabbed it and used his hands to trace the outline of this new shape. He squinted. It was something green. The man's face came slower to his and he felt a gentle hand stroke his cheek. Cedarwood. He could make out that the man had moved his mouth in some way and then smiled at him. To be certain, Scorpius reached his hand out and touched the face near his. Yes, that was a smile. But…but the man's eyes were getting wet again. Scorpius reached a bit more to touch the soft hair brushing against the man's forehead; soft, silky. He then touched his own hair. The man exhaled quickly and a bigger smile returned. So he smiled too.

That day that Scorpius was released from St. Mungo's looked quite a bit different to his parents. He'd just survived a major undergoing of ancient spells and techniques by some of the best pediatric healers available, and that procedure alone was intended to help strengthen him and work slowly to repair the defects he presented with since birth. Draco felt nothing but sheer anxiety inside as the nurse healers removed the tubes delivering potions directly to Scorpius's veins and bandaged him up—he was terrified that one slip could cause his boy to immediately decline in his fragile state. They encouraged Scorpius out of his little bed, and he took slow and careful steps all the way to the exit of the hospital, his mother and father by his side. Astoria proudly watched her determined son demonstrate how good he'd become at walking. It should've been far less exciting to see a four-year-old get better and better at moving himself on his own, but with all of the issues and defeats Scorpius had been faced with his whole life, the fact that he was walking was tremendous. It wasn't until they reached the big entrance doors of the hospital and Scorpius recoiled at the sudden exposure to sunlight that Draco and Astoria realized this was the first time he'd actually felt pure sunshine directly from the outdoors—not just filtered through a window. Astoria scooped him up into her arms to appease him in his confusion. Draco used his wand to apparate them all back to Malfoy Manor. To bring Scorpius home for the first time.

The parents had had a nursery set up for Scorpius before he was even born. A cradle, dressers, toybox all lay empty for four years as their intended occupant was hidden away in the hospital. "You're home, Scorpius." Astoria whispered into his ear. "Let's just bring him to bed," Draco advised beside her. "I want to follow the healer's orders to allow him plenty of rest during the transition." Carefully, Astoria carried her little one slowly up the large staircase to the room they'd had ready for Scorpius for years. She set him down in the bed after Draco pulled back the covers. He covered the shivering boy with the soft comforter and his own baby blanket that they received as soon as Scorpius was torn away from his mother at birth and admitted to intensive care. Draco gave his son a toy dragon to hold onto as he settled in, smiling a bit as he watched him try to determine what it was that he was now in possession of. When he saw the silvery eyes turn back over to him, he reached up and stroked Scorpius's thin cheek. "Welcome home, little one." he murmured. Scorpius put his small hands up to Draco's face. He felt his father's features, trying to determine what was going on and being said and happening around him. When he touched Draco's hair and then his own, both parents laughed a bit. "See?" Astoria assured. "He knows you're his daddy. He knows he's got your hair, the lucky boy." Draco grinned. "I'm so proud you're my child, Scorpius." he said, though he knew he couldn't hear him. "I hope you'll someday be proud that we share so much genetics."

Astoria put her hand on Draco's arm. As they stood together and watched their child's eyes grow heavy with sleep, she lit a candle on the nightstand to burn while Scorpius slept. It released a calming chocolate scent—something she'd always hoped would give him happy dreams and peace. When Scorpius let out a little sigh in his sleep, she smiled. Perhaps he was finally going to come to know the sensations of being _home._


	4. Chapter 4

He was doing better. Far better, in his parents' eyes. The special potions he had to drink multiple times a day were drastically improving his vision, he was able to eat more solid foods at meals, and he was even beginning to get better at reading lips and facial expressions. One thing Scorpius absolutely loved doing was sitting on his little bed with his grandmother and watching her cast sparkling spells with her wand. His silver eyes glistened as he intently watched her, a smile of wonder expanding over his face. It was just as magical for Narcissa as well. Moments like these with Scorpius reminded her of when Draco was a baby, so eager to be near her and to see the goodness of her spells. She loved it when the Scorpius would cup his scrawny, bony hands in earnest for her to cast a bouncing ephemeral ball of light towards him that he could hold there and marvel at before it quickly vanished.

Astoria was eager to have Scorpius come outside into the garden with her. She believed that having him outside in the sunshine would help his poor weak lungs take in natural air and heal him along with his medical potions. He couldn't do much to tend the garden. But he did like to sit amidst the flowers, feel the softness of the petals on his pale skin, take in the sweet aroma of the earth entangled with light spring breezes that tickled the thin hair brushing against the back of his neck. On this particular day, Scorpius was experiencing the best of both worlds from the two most important women in his life. He'd just finished watching Narcissa ice a freshly baked cake in the kitchen, using as much magic as she could. Narcissa was wheeling him out to meet his mother in the garden in his wheelchair—today had started off strong, but a debilitating cough-induced vomiting left him unable to stand on his feet for long periods of time. "There's mummy," Narcissa cooed as she brought him out into the sunlight. Though he couldn't hear her, he smiled at the sight of his mother coming into focus near a patch of daffodils. He outstretched his arms to her. Narcissa gently helped him steady himself on his feet, then held his little hands as he stepped over to the grass near her. Astoria pressed a kiss onto his cheek. He pushed his fingers into the dirt, taking in the cool earth's gritty texture. "Thank you for bringing him out here," Astoria said. Narcissa knelt beside her grandson. "Don't tell Draco," she murmured. Both Malfoy women knew that Draco was _strongly_ against Scorpius having outdoors. He expressed his disdain for exposing Scorpius to so many things that could hurt him—insects, soil-borne bacteria, harmful sun rays, a chill, not to mention those dreadful slimy _earthworms_…they all provided a risk to him that he wouldn't be prone to if he stayed indoors.

Astoria smiled as Scorpius cooed softly, beating down the dirt pile he'd made. "He can't spend his life hidden away," she affirmed. Narcissa agreed. "Aaah!" Scorpius vocalized, pointing at a ladybug on the stem of a daffodil. The yellow was quite bright and harsh on his eyes, but the little red bug was easier to spot that way. Astoria grinned and let the ladybug climb onto her finger so she could hold it up closer for Scorpius to see. "Ohhh…" he murmured as he watched it plod along. He hadn't quite said any words yet, which was expected for a child who was deaf, but his family was given renewed hope every time he would make vocalizations in response to something he saw or felt. "One of these days," Narcissa said softly. "He's just going to come right out and say it—'mama'. I can feel it. He's so close to getting there." Astoria nodded. "The other day he was pointing at some books in the library. It made me wonder if he'll ever read well. If he'll ever be taking up those books and studying at Hogwarts, just like we did." Scorpius clapped his little hands and smiled as the ladybug took flight from his mother's finger. Narcissa smoothed out his thin blonde hair proudly. "He will. And he'll be top of his class." she said, giving him a gentle smile when he turned his silver eyes upon her.

A firm clearing of the throat from the entrance of the garden caused both women to snap up in attention. Draco stood there. Arms folded and brow furrowed, he looked particularly upset about the fact that he was seeing his son outdoors again. "He can't make it to Hogwarts if he dies before he even receives his letter." he growled. "Don't say that, Draco. That's morbid." Astoria snapped.

"It comes from the words of his doctor. His doctor that advises he stays away from things that could kill him. Dirty tools, bugs and mites, bacteria—one wrong move and he could be sent straight back to St. Mungo's in critical condition."

"He's stronger now,"

"But he isn't strong enough, Astoria. I'm exceptionally proud of the accomplishments he's made thus far, of course. I'm proud of my son. But he's got a long way to go. And I don't want to push him."

"Draco he needs to be pushed. He needs exposure, he needs to see the world—"

"I can't have things get any worse than they already are!" Draco shouted.

Narcissa rose to her feet immediately, her eyes stone-cold and hardened. "Draco, a word!" she firmly demanded. Draco's jaw tensed. Without further arguing, he held his arm out respectfully so Narcissa could take it and walk with him towards the garden gates. As soon as she was certain they were out of Astoria's earshot, Narcissa held her head up and confidently stated to her son, "Your family does not need you raising your voice at them." Draco didn't meet his mother's eyes. "You must be the one that's strong for them. The one they can turn to when things do get difficult." she went on. "Trying to control every aspect of Scorpius's life is irrational, Draco. You've come farther than that."

"…I refuse to be the one to fail my son."

"Allowing him to experience life is not failing him, Draco. We all make mistakes as parents. Some make more mistakes than others, as this family has seen most of all. You can't expect to do everything absolutely perfect."

"Astoria wants to push Scorpius. I…don't want him growing up feeling that I'm putting immense pressure on him though. Like Father did to me."

"Oh, Draco…"

Narcissa opened her arms and put them around her son gingerly. She pressed a kiss upon his cheek. "You are not your father, Draco." she whispered. "You never could be." Draco firmly squeezed his crossed arms together as he fought back unexpected tears. His shoulders gave a small shake. "Please," he whispered through a strained throat. "Please just let me feel like I'm doing everything possible to keep him safe." Narcissa moved her hand to the back of Draco's head lovingly. She knew—there was no amount of treatment, no length of stay at St. Mungo's, that could ever heal those scars from Draco's deep-rooted fear of failure. She gave a small nod of reassurance.

Draco blinked a few times to clear his eyes of any stray tears as his mother stepped away from her embrace. She gave his thin hand a squeeze and offered a small smile. They went back into the garden together to find that Scorpius was sitting on his mother's lap, gingerly fingering a daffodil (which seemed quite large in comparison to his small hands) and taking in its scent. His eyelids were heavy. Sensing that the conversation between Draco and his mother was deep and emotional, Astoria decided that she would let him win the battle for the day—it wasn't worth arguing over. "I think he may be ready for his nap," she said when Draco got close. Narcissa gave her a concealed smile and nod. Draco opened his arms to take his child up. "Perhaps playing outside with mummy will tire him out enough that he'll sleep soundly." he replied, winning a grin from his wife. Scorpius cooed happily when he felt his father's chest hum as he spoke. Draco's pitch made a different sensation than that of Astoria or Narcissa. Scorpius liked it. Combined with his father's soft ashen scent, there was nothing that could keep him from feeling safe and secure in his arms. Draco carried his little one back inside Malfoy Manor. "Ohh," he murmured. "You must be so sleepy." Scorpius smiled at the sensation yet again. To show his appreciation, he put his hand up to Draco's face with a happy grin. Draco winced as the dirty little fingers stroked his cheek, still unclean from his digging in the garden soil. "I knew we should've washed your hands first." he muttered. "God only knows how many dreadful earthworms you've touched today."


	5. Chapter 5

Scorpius didn't know why his father seemed so nervous. He didn't quite understand why today was so different than all the other days, but his father seemed agitated and anxious while they were having breakfast. And from what he could see, his mother looked as if she was trying to either ignore the behavior or monitor it discreetly. All things aside it was just tense. Draco stood in front of the big window in the back of the sitting room, looking outside. Scorpius followed his gaze with silvery eyes—it was raining outside, maybe that's why he hadn't been out in the garden yet today? He wasn't sure. He wished he was out sitting in the flowers with his mother instead of being bound to his wheelchair, wearing this new black blazer over his shirt and jumper. Suddenly, he had an idea. He'd come to learn in his five years of life that if he made a vocalization, it caused people to interact with him. Maybe if he tried now, his father would help him understand what was going on…

Scorpius cooed a soft sound. He was right—it got his father's attention. Draco crossed the room and bent to offer his son a gentle smile. But something was still off. He still seemed nervous or stressed. Scorpius reached his hands out and grasped Draco's bony fingers, not knowing how to ask what was happening. A sudden rattling cough wracked his tiny body, his lungs burning and aching as they tried to expel the ever-present mucus that made him always feel like he was _drowning_… Draco tapped on his son's back firmly to break up the cough. He cringed when he heard Scorpius gag as his throat tightened from the force of the ragged air intake. Listening to the wheezing that followed broke Draco's heart. He quickly used his wand to summon Scorpius's favorite stuffed dragon to him, where he placed it gently under the boy's arm. The boy clutched it and tried to focus on stabilizing his breathing. He looked up at his father with teary eyes. Struggling to understand why he had to go through such pain, he let out a small whimper. Draco sighed sadly. He gingerly worked on parting Scorpius's hair to the side, like it had been before for some reason, with his fingers as the boy held onto his dragon. Suddenly, he heard something from down the hall. Scorpius noticed that his father went very still and was looking at the doorway. He craned his neck to see if he could figure out what his father was occupied with. His face was drawn with worry, Scorpius noted. Draco swallowed hard, gave Scorpius a kiss on the head, and then straightened himself upright. He smoothed the front of his coat. For a moment, he just stood there with his eyes closed. Scorpius saw him take a breath in, tilt his chin up, and step out of the room.

Nervous that he was now alone, Scorpius looked around quickly to see if perhaps his mother or grandmother were going to come in and be with him. He didn't like being away from someone. What if he had another coughing fit? What if that drowning feeling came back? What if no one would be there to help him break up all the gunk in his lungs, or give him the potion that tasted like licorice but helped his head stop hurting afterwards? Scorpius squeezed his dragon as he thought about these things. The world was quite a terrifying place when one looked at it completely alone.

Motion in the doorway caught his eye just as tears were beginning to build. Ah, good. His mother was coming in. But…she had someone walking behind her. Who was that? Scorpius told his eyes to focus, focus, focus. But they were still a little too far away. There was his father, also walking behind this new person. He looked even more nervous than before. Astoria approached Scorpius, her gentle eyes smiling at him as she knelt beside his wheelchair. The person that entered with them was quite tall and had a strong build. He was a bit intimidating. Scorpius had never seen someone who looked so bold and tough before. What was he doing here? He was coming closer and closer. Scorpius shrunk back, squeezing his dragon close for some extra protection.

The tall man knelt down in front of Scorpius. He extended his big hand. Draco realized he was holding his own breath as he watched his father meet his child for the first time. It definitely was not his idea. But Astoria had insisted that the Malfoy family get together at least around the holidays so that Scorpius could feel what it was like to be surrounded by his own kin. Draco was at first angry at the very mention of such an idea—asking him to allow his only son, who he was striving to protect from the demons of the world, to meet a man that ruined so many lives including his own was too much. They'd had quite the argument. But Astoria, as patient and calm as ever, held her ground. She raised good points. And most importantly, she expressed how much it meant to her to have a close-knit family around their child, even if it was for limited periods of time. Draco knew that Lucius was also living in shame, probably moreso now than he even was. Lucius had separated himself from the family shortly after the War. In apology for what he put his wife and son through for so many years, he told Narcissa that she and Draco could live in Malfoy Manor without him there so that she could make it the home she always dreamed of. He'd gone off and lived alone. Draco didn't know for certain how often his parents communicated with one another—he knew they weren't officially divorced, but his mother did often go without wearing her wedding ring. Things between them as a family were far from tolerable. Everything was very strained and tense; Draco harbored a lot of anger towards his father after coming to realize just how much he suffered due to the circumstances created by Lucius. Though he'd escaped an Azkaban sentence, Lucius still blamed Draco for being the reason his family fell from grace so quickly.

Seeing Lucius interact with his child was not something Draco was ecstatic about. He could tell just from the looks of things that Scorpius was afraid, his father was smug, and Astoria was feeling like she may have failed. "He hasn't been taught a proper handshake yet?" Lucius asked coolly. "Pity," Astoria's eyes fell to the ground. A fire burned in Draco's heart. "Perhaps he just doesn't feel obliged to shake _your_ hand." he sneered. Lucius studied the small boy in front of him. "He has your eyes, Draco." he stated. Scorpius was reaching for his mother, a little uncomfortable with everyone's attention being on him. Astoria took his hand and ran it over his own hair, then helped him outstretch his arm to reach out to Lucius's hair. They'd gotten a little better over the past few months at using signs and signals to communicate—Astoria hoped this would be one of those successful times that would teach Scorpius more about the world around him. Scorpius seemed to think as he went back and forth between his own hair and Lucius's. He turned his big eyes upon his mother. He placed his hand on his chest and gave a nod. She nodded in response with a gentle smile. He was understanding—this person was someone related to him, someone in his family. She pointed across the room at Draco, then back at Scorpius, and make a rocking motion with her arms. "You're daddy's baby," she murmured as she signed. Pointing at Draco, then Lucius, and following it with another rocking motion, she explained, "And daddy is Lucius's baby." Draco visibly rolled his eyes. A small smile made its way across Scorpius's drawn face as he understood. He turned to look at Lucius once more with hope in his eyes—maybe now this man wouldn't be so frightening.

But Lucius had a look of pity on his face, which Draco immediately loathed. "Has he begun with a tutor? Someone to teach him how to communicate better than just flapping his arms around?" the older Malfoy man asked with a tinge of spite in his voice. "Actually," Astoria piped up, "He's to begin a special therapy with an excellent healer from St. Mungo's. They've got plans to perform some spells and procedures that may even increase his hearing. The hope is that someday soon he'll have complete hearing acuity, isn't that lovely?" Lucius did not seem impressed though. He put his hand out again to the small boy, who now seemed anxiously curious about the new person he was meeting. It wasn't often he had new people to meet. "He isn't a dog. He won't give you his paw upon your request." Draco sneered. He hadn't noticed it before, but Narcissa had quietly slipped into the room. She put her hand on his arm. Lucius clicked his tongue at Scorpius. "Don't your parents know when it's time to get you a new toy?" he asked, reaching for the stuffed dragon under Scorpius's arm. "That one is so old and tattered…"

The moment the toy left Scorpius's grasp, he let out a cry of panic and sadness.

Astoria instantly tried to console him and tend to the spark of a serious coughing fit brought on by the emotional upset. Draco's face went red and the anger boiled over at his father. "Get out," he barked. "I'm requiring that you leave here and never seek to visit my son again." Lucius straightened, but was also just as upset. "What could I have expected? You were a letdown of an heir and you're further corrupting your own child with your carelessness. I thought I raised you to be a better father than this. No tutor? No outside education yet? No etiquette? Old toys? Draco, it's shameful what you've put your son through…" he spat back. Astoria took back the stuffed dragon from her father-in-law to give to Scorpius. "It's his favorite one, he's had it since he was first born—" she hastily explained, but was cut off by her husband. "Astoria, you don't have to give this _excuse_ of a father and grandfather any reason as to how we parent our child." Draco shouted. When Lucius took a step towards him, Draco pulled out his wand. Narcissa desperately grabbed his elbow. "Draco, please…" she besought softly. Astoria put her arms up to protect Scorpius and shield his eyes from seeing whatever was going to take place next. Lucius chuckled darkly. "Are you going to hex me in front of your own child, Draco?" he asked condescendingly, "Is that the kind of person you want him to grow up knowing you as?" Narcissa reached out her hand to attempt to calm the two men. "No, Lucius, don't…" she pleaded again. Astoria joined her in the quest to bring peace between the two. She eased them towards the door, imploring them that they would have a polite discussion elsewhere so that Scorpius wouldn't have to witness any fighting that may cause him to become over-stressed. She did her best to diffuse the tension. As quickly as possible, she moved them out the doorway and into the hall, leaving Narcissa standing alone and looking between her family and her grandchild. "Please stay with the baby," Astoria called to her as she tried to settle the arguing pair.

Narcissa stepped over to Scorpius's side and got down onto her knees. She helped him out of his wheelchair, brushing the stray tears off of his cheeks. He hugged his dragon close. With her arms wrapped around him, he allowed himself to be pulled into a tight embrace on the floor with his grandmother. He felt her breathing quicken as if she was sniffling. Confused, he tried to feel her heartbeat to see if it was racing like his father's did when he was sniffling—it couldn't be that she was crying. He'd never ever seen her cry. To him, Narcissa was the strongest woman he'd ever seen. She wouldn't be crying over anything, would she? He turned his face up to see her and he received his answer.

Narcissa was clinging to Scorpius, holding him pressed up against her, sobbing helplessly on the floor over the fact that she continued to fail in having a connected and loving family even all these years later.


	6. Chapter 6

Scorpius was hearing.

He was actually hearing sound.

Not a lot of it, but enough to where he noticed a difference.

He'd been placed on a highly-researched potion regiment that was expected to slowly restore his ability to hear and process sound. Draco and Astoria were absolutely thrilled when they began seeing results—every time Scorpius would pick his little head up when a door opened or when there was a clattering plate set down on a table, they rejoiced. Of course, he still couldn't quite understand speech. He used his typical method of watching his parents sign to him with their hands and fingers to find out what they wanted him to know. But to Draco and Astoria, it didn't matter at all. What was important was that there was medical progress, that he was exceeding the Healers' expectations as a young patient.

But this new experience wasn't as much fun for Scorpius as one would imagine. It wasn't a rush of hope and golden light that streamed down upon him every time he heard something faintly. There was no magical moment. In fact, Scorpius wasn't even really sure what was going on—after being so used to living in silence, a new world full of strange things that he didn't understand was proving to be quite difficult on him. He liked seeing his mother and father smile at him. But why did they smile whenever he looked up after hearing a scrape or a thud? Those weren't pleasant sounds. And he much preferred _feeling_ his parents speak to him instead of watching their lips and hearing that odd vibration in his ears. This was all too new.

Scorpius laid awake in his bed that night, staring up at the ceiling and hugging his stuffed dragon close to him. It was hard to sleep—there was this strange sensation that was making his ears tingle. Almost like a voice, but not really a voice. Just a soft cry. A cry? He wasn't sure. He didn't like this. Frustrated, he tossed over in his bed and pulled his covers up close to him over his head. Ah, even the sheets made a rustle sound. This wasn't the first night he'd had trouble sleeping either—not by far. Scorpius couldn't count very much, being only five years old, but he knew it had been lots and lots of nights since he fell asleep and stayed asleep. _Tap, scratch, tap_. What was that? Scorpius felt his heart racing. This was all too much. In sleep-deprived anger, he kicked and tossed his blankets off of him and sat straight up. A little too fast though. His vision swam with poor oxygen circulation from sitting up so suddenly. Scorpius tried to shut his eyes and stabilize himself from the dizziness. He let out a thick, mucus-y cough as his lungs burned with strenuous effort. He wanted his mama.

Carefully, slowly, he climbed out of his bed (with lots of pauses to ensure he didn't faint) and crept down the hallway. To a tiny child who had enough to deal with as it was, this was a marathon of a hallway from his bedroom to his parents'. He didn't know it, but before he'd come home from St. Mungo's his parents' room had been even farther away—they moved closer when he arrived so that they could be near if anything happened. Thankfully, their door wasn't shut all the way when Scorpius arrived in front of it. He had trouble with doors. They required an awful lot of energy to push and pull open for a boy who was as frail as he. He slipped in through the crack of the door. As well as he did for making it that far, he was already wheezing and out of breath by the time he made it to the bed. He collapsed onto his hands and knees on the floor. Trying to take enough breaths to give his blood oxygen, he weakly raised his hand and scratched at the side of the mattress upon which his mother slept. Her soft brown hair was delicately strewn across her pillow. Her chest rose and fell with ease. Scorpius scratched a little harder—she wasn't waking up. Another big heaving cough forced its way up his throat. As he kept trying and trying to reach up to Astoria, his head began to pound and his vision was going black.

Instantly, he felt himself being quickly lifted from the floor and carried over to the other side of the bed, where he was then laid across a thin, tall lap facedown. He felt the familiar firm pounding on his back begin. This elicited a thick, but slightly more broken cough up from his lungs. The palm-strike to back mechanism continued until Scorpius was forced to gag up what was left in his stomach from trying so hard to expel the mucus trapped inside of his lungs. After a few big gasps, he realized it was his father who'd woken up and started the tapping on his chest. He saw Draco's bony white hand reach under his pillow and pull out his wand. A soft pink light emerged from the tip, and in an instant, Scorpius (and the floor he'd thrown up on) was tidied up. Draco sat his boy up on his lap again. Weak from such a terror, Scorpius leaned onto him. They stayed like that for quite some time. Finally, Scorpius raised his head and signed to his father, asking if he had been sleeping. Draco shook his head. The boy could see that his father's pale face had dark circles under his eyes, much like his own. Draco's eyes were also wet and a bit puffy. Had he been crying? Scorpius reached up in the dim moonlight and touched his face. When his father turned his face away from the touch, he realized he'd received his answer.

Draco laid Scorpius down gently in the center of the bed, right between him and Astoria. He also laid back down. Pleased that he was getting what he wanted, Scorpius happily settled in and reached over for his mother. Before Draco could stop him, he'd pulled on her arm and caused her to stir. She opened her eyes slowly. "It was only a dream, Draco. You're safe." she murmured sleepily. "It wasn't me waking you," Draco whispered back. "We have a guest in our bed tonight." She fully opened her eyes now, her face melting into a grin when she realized it was Scorpius that was eagerly snuggling up beside her. He used his little hands to pull Draco closer as well. It was warmer when he had both parents surrounding him. "How did you know to bring him in?" Astoria whispered. Draco sort of shrugged, turning his attention to stroking Scorpius's hair. "You weren't sleeping again, were you?" Astoria concluded. Sad, tired eyes met hers. "Nothing's helping anymore," Draco's broken voice cracked as he spoke. "The sleeping potions haven't worked in ages, the calming herbs don't relax me…I'm…night…night's just the worst for the demons that haunt me." Astoria reached across their child to take Draco's shaking hand. "My love," she cooed softly. "It's alright. It's alright. Recovery knows no speed. This may just be a setback. Or perhaps you'll need a stronger draught from now on. We'll ring the Healer in the morning, perhaps he can see you on an emergency appointment."

"Night is when…I see their faces…"

"The masks of the Death Eaters?"

"Worse. The corpse faces of all the dead students I saw after the battle. And it was all my f—"

"Don't say that. It wasn't, Draco. You aren't responsible for the people that died for the Boy Who Lived."

Scorpius hadn't any idea what his parents were saying to one another. He just knew that this was his favorite night ever. Lying between them, with them snuggled close, feeling the vibrations from their chests as they spoke softly to one another… it was better than anything. He loved that his mother and father were holding hands right there on his tummy; that he could feel his mother's breath on his hair and feel the jagged heartbeat of his father. He gave a tender smile as he was enveloped in such sweet emotion. "Look at him," Astoria whispered to Draco, hoping to distract him. "That's our boy. That's our baby. He's absolutely precious, Draco. And he's yours. You created something this sweet and innocent and kind." Draco sniffled, blinking the rest of the tears out of his eyes. "I don't deserve him," he winced. Astoria stroked his cheek. "Draco," she reminded, looking deep into his eyes. "Remember what we talked about on the first night that we went to bed knowing that we were pregnant? You're not a Malfoy anymore Draco. You're a father. A husband. You're different from your lineage. It doesn't define you. So with that name stripped away from you, you're just like any other human being. You passed on all of your good traits to Scorpius. The name means nothing. He'll come to understand that too someday." Draco gave a wobbly smile and drew a breath. "Thank you for reminding me," he whispered. His voice choked up, preventing him from saying any more. But his wife understood. She stretched across Scorpius's head to give Draco a quick, gentle kiss.

Scorpius noticed this and gave an even bigger smile. How he loved being here, in this spot. There was nowhere else in the world he could get this much love. He let out a small vocalization of gratitude, wincing at the noise it made in his own ears, but feeling slightly consoled by his mother wrapping an arm around him and pulling him closer. Being this close to her, he heard her murmur, "I love you both so much." It was a lot of words, and he barely understood even just one, but he knew whatever she said must've been very good because he felt his father's tense muscles relax and his chest let out a long-awaited sigh.


	7. Chapter 7

Draco straightened in front of the mirror, smoothing out the front of his coat. He studied himself. He realized that he'd changed—he was older, his face was more sallow, his eyes had dark circles under them from all of the countless sleepless nights. His hair was longer, and tied back to keep him focused. But inside, he still felt like that scared sixteen year old boy. He still felt as lost as ever. How much did one person have to suffer and atone for their sins? How much could one person get dealt? Why did one person have to carry so much weight—

Draco felt Astoria's hand slip into the crook of his arm and he was snapped back to reality. He glanced down at her. She was dreamily looking into the mirror at the two of them, so Draco kissed the top of her head gently. "Remember our wedding, when we'd left the reception and gone to that cottage we were to spend the night in? And we walked in and found that beautiful mirror in the master bedroom? And we just stood there, looking at ourselves all dressed up in it. Draco, I never thought I'd ever be happier than I was in that moment." she murmured. A small smile fleeted onto his face. "And were you ever?" he asked. Astoria laughed. "Of course, silly. You make every day that happy for me." Draco gave a soft sigh. It was kind of her to say that. He was glad he made her happy, even though some days he found it painful to drag himself out of bed and face his world.

Astoria leaned her head onto his shoulder. "What time must you meet Dr. Carol?" she asked. "We meet in half an hour. And then we'll proceed to the ministry for the initial hearing." he replied, his stomach anxiously twisting at the very thought. She gave him another loving smile. "It's all going to go well," she assured. They stood there in silence for a bit. Before the deadly thoughts began consuming Draco again, a feeble cry sounded from just down the hall, bringing the pair out of their dreaminess. Astoria straightened and looked behind her. "I'll go," she said in parting. Draco watched as she hurried out, listening as she cooed out their son's name to get him used to her voice. He returned to gazing at his reflection in the mirror. He wondered what kind of father he'd be if he hadn't endured such trauma, if he hadn't been such a horrible person in his younger years. Without all of that, he may have more patience, more energy to care for a busy child.

Maybe he wouldn't have been cursed with a child that had so many _problems_…

Draco instantly regretted even thinking that. How could he think that? What kind of father would think that? Tears welled up again—he was a wretched person, through and through. His breathing quickened, his forehead broke into a cold sweat, his hands shook. His head was beginning to feel dizzy… In the corner of his eye, he noticed Astoria emerging in the doorway with little Scorpius on her hip. His bony legs dangled, his arms wrapped around her neck. "Say 'da-da', Scorpius." she murmured to him. "Say 'da-da'," Scorpius looked at his father with those big silvery eyes. "Ahhh…ahh…." he cooed softly. Astoria smiled. "Close enough," Draco couldn't help but grin at his little boy who was trying so hard. He stepped over to the two of them, secretly overjoyed that Scorpius outstretched his little hands to him to be held. "There's my boy," he whispered as he took him up. Astoria put her arms around her two men. "You are both so brave," she soothed. "I'm so proud of you. Draco, today is for Scorpius. Be strong for Scorpius."

Within a few minutes, Draco had apparated to the front of the Ministry of Magic and met with Dr. Carol, Scorpius's private and primary Healer. The two of them waited outside of the courtroom in pensive silence. "Just keep your head high, Mr. Malfoy." Dr. Carol reminded lowly. "They can't use anything of your past against this decision. It's all irrelevant." The doors to the courtroom opened, and an Auror motioned them inside. Though he was absolutely shaking in his bones, Draco maintained a calm demeanor as he entered and stood at the front of the room. "Minister," he greeted softly to Hermione Granger at the high bench. She gave a slight nod, but he noticed her eyes seemed wary. Looking around, he noticed that _everyone_ looked wary. Some members were whispering to one another and staring at him. Some had eyebrows raised. Some looked downright angry to see him. His throat suddenly felt tight and his chest pounded. No, no. He wasn't supposed to look at anyone for this reason. No. No panicking. This was for Scorpius. They couldn't use anything against him…

Hermione called everyone to order, reading the case aloud. "A hearing to determine validity of medical necessity for unconventional magic experimentation." she said. "The subject of the case is only five years old and is being represented by his father, Draco Malfoy. Here with Draco Malfoy is the family doctor, Dr. Carol, who proposes the experimentation and claims medical validity." Some members of the courtroom sniggered. Dr. Carol was then asked to present his research. "My patient," he said. "Scorpius Malfoy, was born with a series of congenital abnormalities, some of which are unable to be alleviated by conventional treatment of potions alone. Scorpius has a condition known as cystic fibrosis—his lungs are overcome by thick fluid buildup that he's unable to expel. As a result, he cannot breathe. He cannot walk far distances. He physically exhausts himself just trying to do something we all do without even thinking. In addition, Scorpius's congenital blindness has slightly resolved with constant treatment. I'm happy to report that. I'm glad that he gets to have something that a normal child his age wouldn't even consider being born without. But the deafness. The deafness is something that hasn't responded to therapy. It hasn't alleviated with the clarity potion. No Taenaroot or smulsweed has been able to effectively _fully_ restore his hearing to the point that would allow him to normally function in a future learning environment such as Hogwarts. So I bring this research before the ministry for approval. In the muggle world, there has been extensive testing and success with a small aid worn in the ear to amplify sound and connect to the brain. This allows the child's sensory nerves to pick up on a stimulus. The brain processes that stimulus, connects the stimulus to the sound, determines the location and pitch, and allows for the child to process the sound as spoken word or noise. It helps children hear. If we were to implement this same type of device into Scorpius's ears, he too would be able to hear. His life would improve. He'd be like every other little boy his age, which I'm sure many of you would die trying to give your child." He looked at Hermione while he said this, who he knew also had a five year old.

The floor opened up for questions. An Auror raised his hand. "What benefit would being able to hear afford a child who's sickly, and likely to die early? It isn't helping his terminal condition any." Draco internally flinched at the remark and smoothed his coat pocket. He knew that with everything Scorpius had, he was not expected to live a full life. But there was something about the sting in that comment that he knew was directed at him. He stared at the floor in front of him. Another question. "He's going to be the first in the wizarding world to undergo such a treatment?" Draco gritted his teeth. He didn't even hear the Healer's response. Another question. "Of all the many many children who are born deaf in our world, why should _he_ be the one to receive specialized care?" This one almost sent Draco over the edge. "I'm sure you'd fight for your child if they were in this situation." he snarled, interrupting the Healer's constructed answer. The room went silent. "The son of a Death Eater?" a brave, angered Auror went on. "The child of someone who caused bloodshed, who ruined lives, who tore apart families? The newest _heir_ of a disgusting name that belongs in the blackest depths of wizarding history? _He_ should be receiving the finest of care? …He deserves to rot just like the rest of your family."

Draco's blood boiled. How dare he talk about his son like that! Scorpius deserved no such thing. "You know me," Draco growled. "But you don't know my son. You don't know that he's the kindest, sweetest, gentlest young boy the earth has ever known. You don't know that he's happiest when he gets to go sit in the gardens with his mother. You don't know that he's such a peaceful soul, butterflies and birds have been known to perch on him as he sits. You don't know how delicate he is, and how much…" Draco's voice broke. He cleared his throat and tried to recover. "How much he means to me." he finished. There was silence again, followed by some whispers. Draco knew that by breaking his silence and disrupting the order of the court, he'd let his temper get the better of him and threatened their case. He touched his coat pocket. A different Auror motioned to speak. "It's inevitable that you're going to have to bury your child in the future someday soon, Mr. Malfoy," she said. "And I hope it's clear to you that you've gotten what you deserved."

Hot, enraged tears jumped into Draco's eyes. He kept looking down to avoid anyone from seeing how deeply this had cut him. If they saw, they'd all jump in on it too. This was exactly was he was afraid of—this was the reason he'd gone back and forth with the Healer for weeks about whether or not they should bring this to the ministry to approve the treatment. "Out," he heard a male voice shout. "Both of those two, out. Get them out. This is meant to be a chamber for unbiased hearings. If you can't display unclouded judgment, then you haven't any reason to weigh in on the decision." Draco looked up at the Auror, the Head Auror, who was commanding the removal. He bit his lip. Potter. Harry glanced over at him, and gave a curt nod. As soon as the two disrupters had been sealed out of the courtroom, Hermione called order again. It was time for a vote. Draco couldn't even pick his head up from staring at the floor. This was exhausting. This was ten times worse than the battles he fought in his own head with these same accusations every single day. There was something disturbing about hearing those horrors come out of another human being's mouth—as if they were being confirmed and permanently engraved in his mind for eternity.

Hermione read aloud. "All opposed to granting medical necessity to provide unconventional magic healing care to Scorpius Malfoy, son of Draco Malfoy, to restore his hearing and enhance his quality of life?" she asked. Draco didn't even want to look at how many wands raised into the air. He was humiliated. Hurt. Demoralized. This was such a mistake. How could he have done this to himself? To his son? "Nineteen have opposed," Hermione stated for the court record. "And all in favor to granting medical necessity to provide unconventional magic healing care to Scorpius Malfoy, son of Draco Malfoy, to restore his hearing and enhance his quality of life?" Would it be any easier to look up and see how few wands were raised in favor of his plea? Draco didn't think so. But curiosity got the best of him. He gave the room a quick scan. Immediately, he was a bit taken aback by the amount of wands he did see raised. He saw Potter standing above everyone else, his wand raised high, his eyes fixed on Draco. As Draco turned his eyes away, he noticed that Hermione's wand was also raised in favor. "Twenty-one in favor." she stated formally. "Dr. Carol, you are hereby approved to begin unconventional magical treatment of Scorpius Malfoy, son of Draco Malfoy, to restore his sense of hearing and improve his quality of life no matter its duration." Dr. Carol bowed and thanked Hermione. He gathered up the papers on the desk in front of him while Hermione called the meeting to a close. Draco was numb. If Hermione and Potter had done what they should've, and voted against him, he would've lost. But they didn't. Despite everything. They supported him, or at least his son. As he was lead out of the courtroom, he glanced up at the pair who'd come to stand together—he could've sworn he saw Granger give him a slight smile.

Harry and Hermione watched Draco leave the courtroom with his head down with the healer. "Until this case, I hadn't any idea his child survived these past few years." Hermione said. Harry sighed. "Neither did I. It wasn't looking well for him that day James broke his arm a few years ago. But I never heard from Draco again. I tried to reach out to him like Narcissa asked. But when I didn't receive any owls back, I figured…things might've been difficult. I thought Scorpius did die." he answered.

"How did a foul, loathsome boy turn into such a…depressed-looking man?"

"Circumstances. He had to grow up too fast."

"He's a shell of a person."

"Are you going to tell Ron that you voted in his favor?"

"_No_ I am not, and neither are you."

Harry laughed. Hermione rolled her eyes and let out a sad sigh. "I just felt bad for him," she stated in summary. Harry showed his understanding by giving a nod. They watched as the thin, solemn man that had once been their greatest rival stopped at the entrance of the chamber and took something out of his coat pocket. It was a small doll. A stuffed dragon, it looked like. He held it in his hand as he stared at it. With the back of his hand, he wiped away a tear from his face. He put the doll back into his pocket and followed stride with the Healer, who was further discussing the research with an Auror. He thought no one had seen his tender moment with Scorpius's favorite toy. Harry and Hermione made a silent promise to keep it that way.


	8. Chapter 8

Astoria stood behind Scorpius on one knee, adjusting his collar so that it would rest neatly outside the neckline hem of his sweater. She smoothed his fine hair. Brushed his tiny shoulders. Nimbly checked to make sure that new plastic piece that attached to his head just behind his ear was well connected to the little tube that led into his inner ear canal. Scorpius absently batted at it once he was reminded of its presence. "No no, love." Astoria warned, grabbing his hands and bringing them back down to his sides. "That's there to help you. It'll just take some getting used to, that's all." Scorpius was still unsure about all of this newness—he didn't understand why he'd just spent days and days and days back in the hospital, only to come back home and not quite feel any different than he did before. Of course besides all the bruises on his arm from those scary, scary needles. And his sore throat thanks to that tube they shoved down his nose and into his tummy again since he hadn't been eating much. "NNnnnnnn…" he cooed softly in response to his mother. There _was_ something a little different about his world—he was hearing things crisply and loudly. Some sounds were becoming familiar to him now. But he couldn't figure out why all of a sudden things had changed. He liked his quiet world from before. Why did everything get so complicated? How was this helping him?

Astoria pressed a kiss onto his cheek and took his little hand. "Ready to go see what Daddy has done for us downstairs?" she asked him. Scorpius allowed himself to be pulled along out of the bedroom and down the hallway. "Aaah…" he murmured, getting used to that ringy sound that he heard every time he used his voice. Astoria squeezed his hand. "Yes, darling. That's right. Daddy's got quite the surprise for you downstairs. Shall we go see?" Scorpius took caution as he stepped down each stair they came to on the staircase. He'd learned the hard way—losing balance here was very very painful. As he was hurried down, he saw his father standing at the bottom. Draco smiled at him. "Scorpius," he cooed. The Healer had mentioned to the Malfoys that it would benefit their child if they used names as frequently as possible to get him used to his world. "Are you ready to have things turn into Christmas?" Scorpius reached out for his father and was caught up in a hug. Draco sat the child on his hip. "Let's go," he encouraged. They crossed the foyer and he opened the doors to the large sitting room. He raised his wand, giving Astoria a knowing smile. "Watch, Scorpius." he instructed. With a sweep, a soft white light beamed from the tip of his wand. Scorpius's silver eyes widened and followed it as it bounced around the room, leaving shimmering sparkles everywhere it touched. Glistening gold shimmers began to take shape on the windows. The moulding. The sitting tables. The corner of the room exploded in glimmering light. "Oooh! Oooh!" little Scorpius cried out, pointing eagerly. As all of the sparkles died down and dimmed, they left behind a beautiful arrangement of Christmas decorations—holly, garland, tinsel, ornaments, and a huge tree topped with a star. Astoria clapped her hands. Scorpius mimicked her happily. Draco felt his heartstrings tug a little bit. He hadn't really had a desire to use a lot of spells or magic in his day to day life after he'd experienced just how dark things could get. Using it this way, to bring joy and wonder to his little boy, made him rethink this.

Scorpius climbed down off of Draco's hip and toddled over to the large tree. He sat down when breath escaped him, but still managed to be within reach of the ornaments on the bottom. His little hands traced the glass orbs that shone in the light. Draco was pulled out of the warmth of the moment when he heard his mother enter the room behind them. "It's beautiful," she remarked. Scorpius's head lifted when he recognized his grandmother's voice. He cooed out to her, offering a gleeful grin as he held up the ornament he was playing with. Narcissa joined him on the floor and handed him one of the big silver bows hanging on the bough. "Can you say 'thank you daddy'?" she encouraged. "Daddy did a wonderful job, didn't he?" When Scorpius didn't respond to the command or even process that something had been asked of him, Astoria crossed the room and drew her wand. She gently tilted his chin up. Scorpius met her with some resistance—he didn't want to be disturbed while rolling his ornament in his hands. Astoria placed the tip of her wand on the plastic disk behind his ear on his skull, murmuring a quiet spell. Almost instantly, Scorpius's eyes widened. He blinked a few times, gathering his bearings. The magnification charm placed on his newly implanted hearing device caused him to suddenly hear things much clearer. "Is that better, love?" Astoria asked. "Aaaaaah…" came in reply.

Narcissa took this opportunity to turn the boy's attention to her. "Scorpius," she instructed. "Say, 'mama'. M-ah…m-ah. Watch me. Mama." Scorpius did watch her lips closely as she spoke to him. As a young child, he was very much into imitating the ones he loved. This noise thing though was just hard to grasp. "No? That's alright. How about 'dada'. Da…da. See? Dada. Say Dada." Astoria gave her a sad smile. "He just hasn't quite gotten there yet," she said. "He makes verbalizes to respond to us, but hasn't said any words."

"It's all still new, dear. Perhaps he's just settling in. The words will come, I'm certain. He just needs to take his time."

"He's going to be brilliantly smart. I just hope…well, I wish…I wish my five year old would talk with me the way other mums have their five year olds talk with them."

"Oh don't fret like that. He will. Someday he'll be talking so much, you'll completely forget that for the first part of his life he went without words!"

Astoria smiled at her mother-in-law. Narcissa was soothing, calming. She always knew what to say. Narcissa stroked Scorpius's hair. "Yes, you'll be telling nana, mama, and dada all about what you learn at Hogwarts someday. Won't you?"

"D-Da…da."

Everyone in the room froze. Astoria eagerly grabbed his shoulders. "What did you say?" she asked frantically. "Scorpius, what did you say?" The little boy watched her, eyes wide, unsure what she was going on about. "Da…da." he murmured again. Oh no, why were tears coming into his mother's eyes? Did he hurt her? He was just trying to sound like his nana! Suddenly Draco was on the floor beside him, also reaching out and asking him what he'd just said. Scared, Scorpius drew back. "Mama," Narcissa said to him. "Mama, say mama. Say Dada, Scorpius." The boy looked around wildly. Why was everyone so fixated on him suddenly? Draco motioned to himself, keeping his gaze locked with his son's. "Dada," he said. "I'm Dada." There was a hesitation. Scorpius seemed to be thinking, processing. It was right there on the tip of his tongue. His father was pointing at himself—something the sign language had taught him meant that it was personal or pertaining to that individual. But his voice, his voice was saying something as he pointed. Did that mean…

"Dada…." Scorpius repeated. He unwrapped his arms from their nervous huddle across his chest. With a bony finger, he pointed at Draco. "Dada,"

An eruption of cheers and joyful crying burst through the room. Draco threw his arms around his little son, practically knocking him over. Scorpius realized that they all must've been happy, the way that everyone was hugging and kissing him. He smiled. "Dada!" he cried out again. It seemed to bring even more joy to his family members. He was wrapped in embraces of cedarwood, cold spring water, and roses, hearing things he'd never before heard so clearly. This was a good feeling. As ecstatic as they were, the Malfoy family had no idea that this was only the beginning for their Scorpius, and from that moment forward, he would be enthralled with learning all he could. But for now, the music to their ears was just a simple cry of "Dada!"


	9. Chapter 9

Scorpius skipped along, holding his mother's hand as they made their way along the cobblestone pathway of Diagon Alley early early in the morning. "Careful, Scorpius." she advised to her bouncy son. She was secretly thrilled to see him so happy and free—he finally was beginning to look like a little boy that wasn't plagued with debilitating illness. Her now eight year old son had taken a strong interest in reading. They were going to the bookstore in Diagon Alley on this day to get him some new reading materials for the days that weren't so good—the ones that left him bedridden and sleepy, the ones that forced him to sit in a chair and not doing anything too strenuous. Scorpius flashed her an excited smile. "Almost there!" he told her gleefully. His speech had gotten much, much better over the years with his new hearing device. He was talking more, learning more words, and constantly keeping abreast on everyone's conversations. The reading definitely helped with that.

However, while things had improved overall for Scorpius healthwise, he still lived under the nervous protectiveness of his father. Draco did not want his son going out in public often—there was too much risk. A risk of coming in contact with diseases and germs, a risk of having someone showing him merciless cruelty simply because of his heritage… Astoria knew these fears of his, but needed to reach a compromise with her husband. To her, it was important that Scorpius see the world and not stay hidden away behind the manor walls forever. After much discussion, Draco and Astoria came to the conclusion that Scorpius was allowed to go to the bookstore at Diagon Alley once every two months, and it _had_ to be early enough in the morning that there wouldn't be a lot of people around. So here they were at this ungodly hour, making their way down the quiet street to the bookstore. Scorpius didn't even care—he just loved going to get new things to read! He'd gotten very bored of his father's old alchemy books that were crammed into the shelves of the library long ago. He liked stories of princesses and dragons and forbidden journeys.

As soon as they reached the old peeling wooden door of the book shop, Scorpius clapped his hands gleefully. "Mama, mama!" he cried out, pointing at the door. Astoria smiled. She pushed on the door for him to help him conserve his strength. He bolted inside. The owner of the store was an elderly woman that was very fond of Astoria, since she too had been a Hufflepuff in her younger years. Mrs. Auslen was her name. She smiled when she saw the small boy enter her establishment. "Scorpius, your manners!" Astoria warned sternly when he didn't greet her. Scorpius stopped in his tracks, his pale face blushing. "Sorry. Good morning." he hurriedly said. Mrs. Auslen laughed. "Good morning, Scorpius. How do you have so much energy already and the sun hasn't even come up yet all the way?" Scorpius clapped his hands. "Books!" was his simple answer. He sped off to his favorite shelf. Astoria stepped to the counter to also greet Mrs. Auslen, smiling herself at her son's joy. "How's he doing, dear?" Mrs. Auslen asked.

"Well for now. The conversational books you suggested last time have helped his speech, we believe."

"I'm glad; it's lovely to hear his voice forming words and sentences. But your husband…still doesn't want him out and about with the other children? He still wants Scorpius to only come here early in the morning?"

"I think he's just more afraid of the social aspect of letting Scorpius out into the world. It won't be easy for him. He's still very frail, and we don't want to push him too hard and cause him any harm."

Mrs. Auslen looked towards the little blonde boy who'd seated himself on a floor pillow and was flipping through some pages of a book on his lap. "You spend so much time caring for him," she remarked. Astoria smiled. "It's beautiful, it really is." Mrs. Auslen continued. "But how are you, Astoria? How are _you_ doing with everything?" Astoria rubbed the aching joints in her wrists. "I'm fine as long as Scorpius is fine." she assured, turning her gaze away.

"Is the curse still as bad as it was after your pregnancy?"

"…Not as bad, but things have just been a little difficult lately."

"My dear…"

"Draco also thinks it's better that Scorpius and I do our book shopping together this early so that I can stay home and rest for the day instead of taking the risk of getting overworked."

"He cares about you. He only wants what's going to keep you safe."

"I'm lucky to have a life such as this. I know I'm not going to make it to old age. But I've known it since I was a girl. I'm at peace with it. I've gotten everything I could've asked for out of life—a husband, love, a sweet child, a home, an education…. I'm really happy with how everything came to be."

"…Does Scorpius know?"

"No. Not yet. We'll tell him when he's older, when he can understand. We want him to grow up a happy child without anxiety or dread."

Mrs. Auslen looked over at the child on the floor, fingers tracing the letters on a book cover gingerly. Without another thought, he flipped it open and began reading away. Astoria smiled. Despite everything he went through on a daily basis, despite the fact that he'd seen (though not quite understood) his father drowning in the depths of depression, despite not knowing what tragedy lie ahead of him, Scorpius remained the most hopeful and innocent child she'd ever seen. She often marveled at his optimism. His positivity. Sometimes when she sat back and looked at him, she wondered if he would follow his father's footsteps and be sorted into Slytherin, or if he would branch off and become a Ravenclaw or even a Hufflepuff. "M-Mama…" came a small voice that pulled her out of her thoughts. Scorpius was looking up at her with his inquisitive shiny eyes. She immediately went to him on the floor, trying to hide the sound of her sore joints popping as she took a seat. He pointed at a word on one of his pages eagerly. "Mama?" he asked again. Astoria also pointed at the word with him. "Do you not know that word?" she said to him. "Do you need some help?" The boy nodded. "Tell me you need help, Scorpius."

"Help!"

"And remember your manners."

"Help please, mama."

"Excellent job. Now let's look at this word. This is an s. What sound does an s make?"

"Ssss…"

"Good. Now look at these next few letters. E-N. What does that sound like?"

"ennn…"

"That's right. Now we've got S-I-B. What's that?"

"Sssssib."

"And look, the last few letters have an L and an E. Can we put all of those sounds together?"

"Ssssennn…ssssib…llllle."

"Sensible!"

"Sensible!"

Astoria clapped her hands and offered Scorpius lots of praise for sounding out the word. The boy proudly hugged the book close to him, along with the other three that he had in his arms. "I like these!" he cried out. "Alllll of them!" Astoria helped him steady himself as he stood up, reminding him to take deep breaths to prevent a coughing fit. Proudly, Scorpius carried his books to the counter where Mrs. Auslen stood. He struggled, they were heavy, but he was relieved to get them onto the counter. "Please!" he recited. Mrs. Auslen smiled at him. "Let's see what you've picked out today, Mr. Malfoy. Ohhh… 'The Littlest Dragon of Austria'. That's a lovely pick. 'A Crown for the Pauper'. Very good. 'Harry Saves the World'. Doesn't that sound courageous? And oh look at this one, 'Bubbling Bobbling Babbling Potions'! Excellent choices today, Mr. Malfoy." she remarked. Scorpius gleefully clapped his hands, so proud of his book selection from the children's section. Astoria took some money out of her purse and set it on the counter like always, helping him gather his new reading material. "Let's go home," she said. Scorpius waved happily at the woman behind the counter. As they got outside, the sun was just beginning to peek over the hills beyond the buildings of Diagon Alley. "Ooooh!" he rejoiced, pointing at the rising ball of light. Astoria let him stand and take in the beauty of the world for a moment. She marveled at how sensitive her son was. Scorpius hugged his burlap bag of books close to him, swinging side to side. "Mama?" he asked sweetly. She looked down at him, offering a gentle stroke of the hair. "Thank you," he finished. He leaned in close to her and buried his face into her stomach in an attempt of a hug. Astoria closed her eyes. "Anything and everything for you, darling." she whispered.

As soon as they went home, Scorpius set his bag down in the library and picked out his dragon book to read first. "Outside! Outside!" he told his father as he hurried past him to the door so that he could go read in the garden. Draco and Astoria exchanged a smile. "I'll go make sure he doesn't get into anything he isn't supposed to." she knowingly reported, following her son in the direction of the garden. Draco thanked her and shook his head. He was so grateful that things were looking up for his boy—Scorpius was beginning to act his age and have hobbies, even if the main one was reading. Draco didn't mind—it meant he'd be smart. He went over to the slumped bag to see what other books his son was interested in, chuckling when he saw the selections of children's books. But quickly, his smile faded when he noticed one of the stories. _Harry Saves the World._ Draco felt his heart rate quicken. Was this really about… Oh no. He tore the book open and searched every page of word and illustration. There were introductions to history's major characters in a youthful portrayal—the bright, sensible witch who was booksmart, the brave redheaded best friend, the hero with the lightning scar, and…

The trouble-making nemesis of the boy who saved the world.

Draco's heart clenched. Blood pumping hard, he stood up and traced Astoria's footprints out to the garden entrance. She was sitting beautifully on an outdoor swinging chair, with Scorpius lying across her lap. His nose was buried in his dragon book. Astoria looked up when she heard Draco step over. When she saw his paled, firm expression, she realized he wasn't happy about something. He held up the book. "Why was Scorpius allowed to pick this book?" he asked, his breath getting ragged.


	10. Chapter 10

Scorpius had definitely heard his parents argue before. He didn't like it. They never fought in front of him, but instead took their conversation into a private room or outside so that he wouldn't be caught up in it. However, Scorpius despised the sound of it when they were going back and forth about something. For the first few years of his hearing, he'd anxiously run to his grandmother for assurance that their family wasn't breaking up, that it was normal for parents to argue, that everything was going to work out just fine before bedtime. But now that he was older, Scorpius tried to calm himself in times like these. Unfortunately, being stressed and nervous caused his fragile airways to constrict even more and make breathing difficult. So there he sat on his bed after fleeing at the first sight of his father coming to the garden looking so upset.

He tried to blink tears away from his eyes as he focused as hard as he could on his book about dragons. He felt so guilty. He'd picked a book at the store that made his father angry, and now his mother was going to have to answer for him. He could still hear the arguing going on downstairs. "I paid no mind to what books he was even choosing. I hadn't any idea he'd picked that one. Draco, we may be able to hide him from the world, but we can't hide him from history. It is what it is." his mother said.

"I didn't want him knowing yet. He's too young. I told you we would make that decision together and when he could understand!" Draco snapped back.

"He's so smart. He can understand. He's the kindest and most open-hearted boy I've ever seen, Draco. He deserves to know the truth so we can just get it out there and be done with it. Why try to put it off for longer?"

"Because…because…. T-That wasn't your decision to make, Astoria! It wasn't your past!"

Scorpius heard his mother begin to answer, but she was cut off by heavy footsteps that were storming away quickly. Scorpius put his book down on his bed quietly. He paused to hear what was coming next. A slam of a door nearby told him that his father had shut himself away in his bedroom. This was bad. Usually when Draco behaved this way, he was having an emotional breakdown. It didn't happen often, but when it did, it broke Scorpius's heart. He decided to try something he'd never done before. Quietly, he slipped off his bed and steadied himself when the black dots swam before his eyes. Once he felt good enough, he opened his bedroom door and snuck down the hall. He had to be careful. As he entered his parents' room and peeked inside, he saw his father sitting on the bed with his back to him. He was crying. No, _sobbing_. Scorpius watched in horror as he saw Draco raked his fingernails over and over across his scalp, as he squeezed his hands together so hard his knuckles turned blue, as he pulled on the thin strands of his white-blonde hair. His breathing was deep, hard, and raspy. Alarms went off in Scorpius's head. His father should _not_ be hurting himself like this.

Bravely, he pushed his way into the room and jumped onto the bed behind Draco. "Daddy!" he cried out. He grabbed his hands with his small ones and pushed them out of his hair. Just like his parents often did for him, he then struck his father firmly on the back over and over again in case he was having trouble breathing. Scorpius didn't know any better. He just wanted to help. "Deep breath out, Daddy." Scorpius repeated by memory. Draco, surprised by this attack of compassion, stopped crying for a moment. Scorpius finished his attempt to "restore" Draco's breathing pattern and instead threw his arms around his neck and shoulders. "Shhhh, Daddy." he soothed. Still a little stunned, Draco remained still and processed the fact that his little son was there and had seen his nervous breakdown. He wasn't sure if it made him feel comforted, or made him hate himself even more.

Scorpius held his father there gently. In his surprise, the adrenaline caused Draco's tears to end right away and he just sat there accepting the support. "Daddy," Scorpius murmured with a kiss to his tearstained cheek. "No crying. Ok? No crying." Scorpius didn't care if he got in trouble for barging in after this—as long as his father would stop hurting himself, any punishment was worth it. That was so scary to see. "S-Scorpius…" his father whispered in a broken voice. "I'm so _sorry_…" Draco turned his face away again, though he could practically feel the love pouring off of his son. "Daddy, don't be sorry. It's all going to be ok."

"There's just…so much you don't know."

"I like learning,"

"Not that kind of learning, Scorpius."

"I love you."

Draco's eyes filled with fresh tears. Hearing that simple phrase from a child who hadn't even been expected to ever speak had always filled him with so much hope. Today it meant something different though. He gave a weak smile. "Do you promise you'll never hate me?" he asked feebly. Scorpius's bright silver eyes lit up, an innocent smile on his young face. "Never! Never ever! I will never hate you, Daddy!" Seeing that sweetness, that purity, it just made Draco's heart melt. He laid back onto the bed—fits like these left him mentally and physically exhausted. Scorpius snuggled up beside him, head resting on his father's chest in what he considered the safest place in the entire world. "But Daddy?" he asked after a moment or two of silence. "Promise no more hurting yourself. Please." The guilt flooded back into Draco's stomach with that simple plea. He didn't even want to look at his arms and face, which he knew he'd scratched up in anxious stimulation. "I'm sorry, Scorpius." he whispered. The boy just offered another little snuggle closer in response. Some time went by as they laid there. Draco continually wiped at his eyes and nose, and sniffled when necessary. He had a lot of emotions swirling around inside him, but none that he could even rationalize at the moment. Maybe Astoria was right—this child was the kindest, sweetest, most innocent little boy that he could've ever created. Perhaps he would be understanding to the entire situation. It depended upon how it was presented to him, in part. Draco took another deep breath. Scorpius emitted a thick, unproductive cough that made his skinny frame shake on Draco's chest.

It hit him in that moment—Scorpius wasn't going to be around forever. He did have a bit of a ticking timeclock on his lifespan. Didn't he deserve the most honest, loving father he could get for such a short time?

Draco stroked his son's fine hair gently and let out a shaky sigh. "Scorpius, can I tell you a story?" he asked. The boy didn't answer. Draco reached over to the bedside table and took hold of his wand, placing the tip against the implementation behind the boy's ear. He quietly murmured the medical incantation that would refresh the amplification charm assisting with the hearing. It often times wore off and needed some refreshing—once Scorpius was given a wand of his own and could learn the spell, he'd be able to adjust the volume for himself. But for now, he still remained reliant upon his parents to notice when the noise was too soft. After Draco removed his wand, Scorpius noticed a difference. His head shifted a bit at the new clearer sounds. "Scorpius, can I tell you a story?" Draco repeated. The boy eagerly looked up. "Yes! A story!" he exclaimed. He settled into a comfy position where he could easily see his father's face so he could focus better. Draco took a deep breath. "You promised not to hate me." he reminded. "And I want you to know that the biggest lesson to learn from this story is that a person is not what their family is."


	11. Chapter 11

Astoria attempted to appear as if there was no pain radiating in her shoulders as she walked in stride with her husband through the rainy streets of Diagon Alley. Scorpius held her hand, trotting beside her, occasionally losing stride when he found a puddle he wanted to hop over instead of walk around. The family hurried along, avoiding gazes, keeping their hoods close to conceal their faces. It was _rare_, extremely rare, that they ever left the Manor all together. But today was an exception—Draco had a very important meeting at Gringotts to discuss some Dark artifacts that had been discovered in his family's name in a few ancient vaults. To dispel any rumors and prevent any trickiness from the banking goblins, Draco decided to go in person and settle the destruction of the artifacts himself. Astoria and Scorpius were coming along to catch up on some of their own errands—Astoria needed to pick up some ingredients for some of the medical potions both she and Scorpius needed on a daily basis. Scorpius was tagging along because his parents did not want to leave him alone at home in his fragile condition. Draco was only allowing for an outing such as this with several stipulations, one of them being that they wear their hooded cloaks at all times and avoid engaging in anything said about them.

As the rain drizzled on, Scorpius tilted his face up towards the looming gray skies. "Ahh…" he cooed, enjoying the refreshing patter of droplets on his face. Astoria pulled his cloak higher up. "Don't catch cold, love." she reminded. They hurried along, coming to a stop in front of the ominously tall building with the stone dragon seated atop. Draco turned to Astoria. "Be safe," he instructed. "I don't expect to take too long. However, if you need me, come and get me here." She gave him a nod. Draco respectfully kissed her hand, then bent down to Scorpius. "Take care of mum," he added. Scorpius gave an innocently sweet smile in response. Astoria took her son's hand again and led him away from the entrance to the bank towards a small market store nearby. Upon entering, she lowered her hood, but Scorpius gave his whole body a wild shake—sending water droplets flying. "Scorpius!" she hissed. "You aren't a dog, you're a boy!" The boy gave a giggle and immediately became fixated upon a large jar full of angelically drifting white jellyfish swirling around. He spread his little hands on the glass. He wondered how it felt, to be so weightless and free. "Mama," he called out. "Mama, have jellyfish a heart?" Astoria stepped up behind him, pushing away that all-too familiar pain in her back. "No, I don't think so, darling." she replied.

"Have they a brain?"

"…No they don't." she replied, giving a side glance to a few young adults snickering at her son's questions from behind another shelf. "Just like some humans."

"Have they any lungs?"

"No, love. No lungs."

Scorpius appeared to think at this. He let out a congested sigh. "Perhaps that's why they float so freely."

Astoria's brow furrowed in sad realization that her son was longing to feel light and free, and not constantly heavy due to the painful mucus buildup in his chest. "Scorpius…" she began, but stopped when she saw her son turn his head towards the giggling group that was teasing him. She stepped in front of his gaze so that he wouldn't make eye contact. "Pay them no mind, just like daddy said." she whispered. Scorpius's eyes again seemed clouded with anguish. He gazed back at the jellyfish with his chin in his hands. Astoria silently told herself to quickly gather what she needed so that they could be on their way. She decided that her boy needed some cheering up, so she mapped a quick plan in her head to take him by the book shop and let him pick something new.

Astoria hurried her way through her shopping when she heard the group of people begin whispering; the name "Malfoy" on their lips in every few sentences. Scorpius was a curious child. She knew he'd be listening just because he enjoyed seeing people live their day-to-day lives normally. Any hint of bullying or maltreatment may crush his innocent picture of the world. She gently eased him away from the jar of jellyfish and led him back outside where they were able to blend in with the rest of the hooded, rain-dodging society members. "You've been a great help today, Scorpius." she remarked as she took his hand. The pain that was manifesting in her back began sending painful sparks up into her chest. She cleared her throat to try to relieve that bubble of pressure that seemed trapped where her heart was. "Let's go get another read, shall we?" Scorpius's naturally dark-circled eyes brightened a bit at this. He was excited. "Do you reckon they'll have the next book about Harry Potter and the basilisk?" he asked with zeal. He _loved_ all of the stories about Harry Potter's heroic adventures, and all the events of history connecting together into one incredible journey. It seemed he was reading through the large books within a week and was always begging his parents to take him to Diagon Alley to get the latest story. Astoria smiled at his enthusiasm. She let him eagerly take the lead down the busy street, still treasuring that he wanted to hold her hand even at eight years old. He was still tiny, so navigating through the dense crowds was a bit easier for him on his skinny little legs. Most children would've opted to skip the bookstore and instead head to the toymaker's or the Weasley's joke shop—but Scorpius was a little different. He was special. He sped past both entryways in search of his favorite store that had the smell of burning candles and warm old leather with dusty pages—

Suddenly, Astoria felt a sharp, excruciating pain flash from her chest throughout her whole body like she'd been struck by a lightning bolt. It was as if that pressure bubble had popped inside of her and had exploded into a thousand knives. With a jagged breath, she stumbled—the piercing sensation in her chest caused her to lose her breathing pattern and for her limbs to fall weak. Her foot slipped off the curb of the cobblestone and down she fell. In the collapse, she let go of Scorpius's hand. She fell wrong. All wrong. Her frail arms cushioned her descent only slightly, but her weakness still forced her forehead down against the bricks. Scorpius gasped. "Mama!" he screamed. He threw himself down by her side, tossing his hood off to get it out of his eyes. People around them on the street stopped as onlookers. Scorpius didn't know what to do—he could tell his mother was still conscious, but she was in terrible, incomprehensible pain. He desperately shook her shoulder. "Mama!" he cried out again. This was the worst thing that could possibly ever happen to him—he was alone, out in the world, dealing with a crisis alone. "H-Help!" he shouted to the people around them. "Someone help me!" But everyone was just frozen there. Tears were beginning to form and his airways were constricting. "Please! _Please_ someone help me!" he sobbed. Blood was beginning to ooze out from the top of his mother's head. Pressure, pressure, he thought. Just like he'd read a while ago in a book about medicine. He pressed his tiny palms against the bleed, earning a wince of pain from Astoria. "That's him," he heard someone say. "Voldemort's son." Confused, Scorpius looked up in the direction of the voice—who were they talking about? _Why_ were they discussing something other than how to help the bleeding woman on the ground? A woman broke through the crowd and drew her wand. "I'm a Healer," she announced. "I'll take care of it from here." Scorpius was white with terror, shaking from such trauma. "Please, help her…" he feebly begged in tears. The Healer put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm going to get her to hospital quickly, dear. She's got to go straight away." she explained. "B-But…m-my…I need my mama or daddy…." The Healer was already preparing to Apparate with Astoria. "Go find your daddy and stay with him," she advised quickly. Scorpius panicked—how was he supposed to go find Draco when he wasn't quite sure how to get back to Gringotts or if his father would even still be there? Suddenly he felt a firm hand on his shoulder and someone knelt down beside him. "Where's your dad?" a man's voice asked. Nervously, Scorpius tried to think of an answer but was interrupted by a rattling cough that wracked his frame. "Come on little one, it's alright. I'll help you. Where's your dad?" Scorpius turned his head to see who was promising help to him. A man with fiery red hair and sad, kind eyes. "G-Gringotts…" Scorpius stammered. He was shivering in anxiety. The man took his hand and stood up. "Come on, let's go inside and we'll get in touch with him. Come get out of the cold and rain."

Scorpius wasn't really seeing straight from all the terror—everything was swirling and blurry, things were too loud and too bright. He knew he was being led somewhere past tons and tons of people, but the rest was hazy. "I-I want mama…" he whimpered. The red-haired man brought him up a staircase full of bustling kids. He ushered Scorpius into a door to a quiet room that had a cluttered desk and some chairs residing in it. "Sit, sit." he urged. Scorpius numbly sat in a chair and hugged himself, rocking, teeth chattering in shock. The man was hurrying around. Within seconds, the man was back in front of him, holding up a large green sweater that had a "G" knitted into the front. "My mum made it for me herself," he explained cheerfully. "Doesn't get much wear anymore. Not really something the kids are rockin' these days." He draped the sweater around the tiny boy's shoulders and wrapped him up. He then pressed a teacup with hot coco in it into his hands. "Relax, alright? Everything's ok. Your mum's gone to St. Mungo's, she's in good hands. I'm pulling a few strings and I'll be calling over to Gringotts to get ahold of your dad. I've got connections in the business world. Comes in handy in times like these—and when I need an extra day or two for the rent check to clear." The man offered a wink. Scorpius studied him with wide, fearful eyes. "W-Where…am I? How will Daddy know where to find me?" he stuttered. The man smiled kindly. "You've been lucky enough to come to the place with the best medicine—laughter. It's Weasley's Joke Shop. Can't say I've seen you in here before. Usually I'm good with faces."

"I-I don't come to Diagon Alley often because Daddy says it isn't safe for us."

"Ah…it's a shame your dad has to feel that way."

The man opened Scorpius's hand and told him to wait a moment while he pulled a soft green pygmy puff out of a drawer of the crowded desk. "Hold onto him while I place my call—these things usually make people feel a bit better." While he was still a little confused, Scorpius took a sip of the coco and let the small creature crawl on his lap. The red-haired man knelt by the fireplace; it appeared as if he was making a firecall. Scorpius couldn't see the face in the flames, but he heard a bit of the conversation with his working hearing aids. "Oi, don't be daft, you know who it is. Been drinking on the job again? You've got to be bloody stupid if you can't recognize me! Listen, I'm cashing in on that favor you owe me. Find out which of you greedy goblins has got Draco Malfoy in a meeting and tell them he's got to come to the shop immediately for his son. …And if you do it quick enough, perhaps I won't shove my shoe into your face the next time I see ya. …Yeah of course we're still on for drinks next Thursday. …Alright, see you then." With a chuckle, the man stood up and went back to Scorpius's side. "Shouldn't be too long now." he assured. "H-How did you know who my dad was?" the boy asked, genuinely perplexed. He'd never even met this man before. The man grinned. "I'd know a Malfoy when I saw one. Also, I happen to be the smartest man on the planet. Watch—think of a number between one and two million. I bet I can guess your number." Scorpius was a little wary; his nerves were shot, he was panicked, his lungs were burning like _fire_, his mother was ill, his father was far away… how could this man think now was the time for jokes? "Ah, too slow." the man said, reaching behind Scorpius's ear. "Looks like your brain turned your number into sweets." He held out his hand to expose a few tasty-looking jellybeans. Despite everything, Scorpius felt himself smile. The man chuckled with him as he reached for a bean.

Only minutes later, a knock came at the door of the small office. The red-haired man opened it and revealed Draco standing in a state of panic, frantically looking in for his son. "Right here," the man guided with a nod of his head. Draco rushed inside and threw his arms around Scorpius in the chair. The two hugged in silence. There were quiet tears. Draco wiped his eyes quickly. "It's alright," he whispered to his son. "It's going to be alright. I'm here. We're going to go home. Mama's going to be ok—grandmother is going to go look after her now at St. Mungo's. You and I are going home. Come on, love." Draco helped his son stand up and fold the sweater, and place the teacup on the desk. Scorpius gently handed the red-haired man back the pygmy puff. Draco paused at the doorway of the office. He turned to face the red-haired man. "I really don't know how to…" he began with a strained voice. The man gave a gentle half-smile. "You don't have to." he assured.

"I'm…so sorry…"

"Hey, we're not kids anymore. We're all dads now. We've grown up and left everything in the past."

Draco bit his lip. He gave an appreciative nod when the words failed him. The red-haired man put his hand out. "Let your kid come by again sometime, Draco." he said with a grin. Draco gave a weak, tired smile. "Thank you, George." Scorpius looked up at the red-haired man who was apparently named George. He earned a smile from him too. Though he was terrified of what his mother's episode today meant for her future, and he was emotionally drained from the trauma he'd endured in a single day, things seemed calm. Settled. Comfortable. Because of a stranger who knew more of him than he thought. When all those people on the street wouldn't help him, George Weasley came through and took him under his wing.


	12. Chapter 12

Draco pensively refolded the piece of parchment he was holding in his hand as he sat beside Astoria at the breakfast table. He bit his lip. Astoria quietly stirred her tea, not wanting to break the heavy silence but also wishing for it to finally end. "It's very kind of her to offer that." she murmured. Draco nodded. "Certainly," he replied, staring at the table. "I don't deserve that sort of kindness from her."

"Draco, we talked about this. When Scorpius hears you say things like that, it isn't good for his self—"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry."

Another silence fell. Astoria went back to stirring her tea, though she could feel Draco sitting tensely, plagued by a racing mind. She decided to try to bring up the sensitive topic one more time. "…We don't have to send him straight away this year. We could wait until next year." she offered softly. Draco cleared his throat, trying to be strong. "No. He'll go this year. Waiting won't do him or us any good. It'll only prolong the worry."

"He certainly was thrilled when the owl delivered his letter."

"And when we had him fitted for his robes."

"I think he may have already read through half of his textbooks and school hasn't even started."

Astoria and Draco shared a quiet laugh. Quickly though, Draco's smile began to fade and disappeared with a sigh. He put his hand atop Astoria's thin forearm resting on the table. "I just…worry about him." he nearly whispered. Astoria laced her fingers between his. "I know you do. But there isn't anything to fret over yet. He's ready to learn, he's much stronger now than a few years ago, he has a solid potion regiment that keeps him well, and that letter there in your hand assures you that he's going to be taken care of and accommodated for. Promised by Headmistress McGonagall herself."

"She also said we may visit him however often we need."

"Right. See? She understands—his teachers will understand. Everything's going to be just fine."

"His classmates won't be so kind though. Ever since that day in Diagon Alley that you had your heart attack, we've been in the news again. The Quibbler won't publish an issue that doesn't mention the name Malfoy somewhere in it with bogus speculation; people saying that I've hexed you into submission, that I've malnourished our child, that he isn't even…mine. It won't be fair to him. He doesn't deserve that."

"He's smart enough to understand that his family isn't what others imagine them to be. He knows not to listen to those mad voices. He's heard everything you've told him about the past, and yet you're still his biggest hero, Draco."

Before Draco could respond, little footsteps came hurrying into the dining room. Scorpius's thin frame and bright blonde hair burst into the doorway, an eager grin spread across his drawn face. "Good morning Mama and Daddy!" he called out, running in for a hug from his mother. "I don't much feel like breakfast," he reported after the embrace, smoothing his jumper and straightening his collar. "I want to go make sure I've got everything packed correctly. I'll be down when it's time to leave!" With that, he bounded back out of the room taking his pattering footsteps with him. Draco gave another sigh, but this time the smile lingered on his face. "Definitely can't say he isn't excited," he remarked. Astoria began stirring her tea again to avoid eye contact. She didn't want him to see that tears had swelled into her eyes. Unfortunately, her Slytherin husband noticed everything. He quickly reached for her hand again. "Astoria, this is another reason why I worry. It's not just Scorpius I fear will have health issues being far away from us. It's you too."

"I'll be fine. I'm not going to cry today."

"And you think that will make things easier?"

"…Draco, I'm just…honestly I'm just so happy that he's made it this far. Remember when I'd first delivered him, and they snatched him from me so quickly? Remember when they brought him closer to my face and told me that I could kiss him for the first and last time before he passed away because he couldn't breathe? When they thought he wouldn't survive the hour, then the night, then the following day? Remember staying with him night after night in St. Mungo's, watching him grow older but not up? Or all those times that he would be straining to see, or playing with us in his bed, and then all of a sudden his lungs would freeze and his face would go blank and his eyes would roll and we had to wonder, is this the end of our child?"

Draco felt tears streaming down his own cheeks now. He gave a nod. Astoria smiled as tears wet her face endlessly. "That little boy who was once a patient on a deathbed for so many years of his life has now grown into a student. They didn't think he was going to make it. And yet… our little boy is going to Hogwarts, and he's going to do wonderful things."

Draco knew Astoria was right. Scorpius's chances of ever surviving this far at all had always been extremely bleak. He really had come an incredible way. Astoria dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. "Seeing him off today," she continued, "will be the pinnacle of my life as a mother. I could die at any subsequent moment after that train pulls away, and I would be dying at my happiest."

"Don't say things like that, Astoria…" Draco whispered, wiping tears away from his face. She just smiled at him. "Draco. We know it won't be much longer. I just…I need you and Scorpius to know that I am completely at peace. I am so happy at this very moment. I have no…fear about anything. Look at how wonderful my life has been." she went on. Though he knew she was right about her acceptance of inevitable death due to her blood sickness, it was one more thing he didn't want to think about on this sad day where his life was going to change. He placed a kiss on her cheek and stroked her hair. "I'm going to go make certain he isn't trying to carry that trunk by himself down the stairs." he informed, earning a chuckle from his wife.

In what felt like the blink of an eye, they were already standing together as a family on Platform 9 ¾ in front of the hissing Hogwarts Express. Scorpius was wildly looking around—there was so much to take in! So many owls, so many children his age, so many people, colors, sounds, smells… He felt his father's hand fall on his shoulder gently so he turned his wide eyes back towards his parents. "Listen, Scorpius." Draco said, getting down on a knee to be at level with his tiny son. "These are things you must remember, alright? You _must_ take your blue potion first thing in the morning, every morning. Please remember to eat at every meal and keep on top of your weight. At lunchtime, go into the boys' bathroom, lean yourself over the sink, face down while you let the faucet run hot, and breathe in the steam to loosen up your lungs. Then at the end of the day, you _must_ take both the green potion and the dark red one, have a hot bath with loads of steam, and prop your pillows in bed so that you don't lie flat and choke. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"And do you remember the spell you need to adjust the hearing aid?"

"_Otono Perimperia_,"

"Very good. And you promise you'll write your mother and I?"

"Yes Daddy."

"No leaving school grounds, please don't get into any trouble, and study hard. Am I clear?"

"Yes Daddy."

"And at the _slightest_ twinge of you not feeling quite right, you _promise me_ you'll go straight to Madame Pomfrey to have a look at?"

"Yes Daddy."

"Anything you need me to go over again?"

"Just one thing."

"What is it?"

"…What happens if I don't make friends?"

Draco stood up, feeling worry swell into his heart once again at the mention of his child not being accepted by the others. "Let's first worry about settling in, following routine, and staying healthy. Alright? Those are your goals to work on until you come home for Christmas holiday." he assured. Scorpius tried to pep up and give a happy smile. Astoria held her arms out to wrap him in an embrace. Draco looked up as the train blew its whistle. He met eyes with Harry Potter, walking proudly beside his wife, two sons, and daughter. Following close behind were Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger-Weasley and their two children. He saw Ron's eyes narrow at the sight of him. Quickly, Draco looked away towards his own family—Scorpius had sprung into cough due to the smoke filling the air from the train. The train sounded its whistle again, causing the boy to look up at his parents with anxiousness. "Be brave," Draco reminded his son. "We will always love you." Scorpius seemed to bite his lip—nervous about leaving his parents for the first time ever. Draco gave him one last stroke of the hair. The doors to the train slid open. "Go on," Astoria gently urged with a smile. Scorpius hugged his book close to him, broke his gaze, and stepped up onto the traincar landing. He gave his parents a wave. Draco placed an arm around his wife, giving her a gentle kiss when he noticed more of the sparkling tears in her eyes. As he turned his head, he noticed that Potter too was kneeling in front of his youngest son, also giving him a pep-talk. What a time for Scorpius to be attending school—with the two hero Potter boys going at the same time and a Potter girl following suit shortly after. What quelled his racing heart was the sight of a small blonde boy sitting in a cabin, keeping the door open and expectantly looking at each child that swept past his compartment. He was open to making friends. Draco closed his eyes and hoped with all of his heart that he would be able to do this.

The train bell sounded—the Hogwarts Express was off.


	13. Chapter 13

Scorpius kept a close eye on his parents as the Hogwarts Express pulled out of King's Cross Station. Though he would never, ever, ever admit it to them, he was absolutely terrified of going to Hogwarts. Of course he wanted to learn. Of course he was eager to read and study and enhance his knowledge. But there were just so many other _kids_ around—something he wasn't used to at all. Kids that, as his dad had told him, weren't going to feel inclined to be particularly kind to him because of his heritage. Still, he tried to stay positive. Every time the door to his compartment slid open he looked up with excitement, offering a smile to the student peering in at him. Perhaps they'd sit with him if he looked approachable? But it was hard to stay positive when the compartment door would quickly slam closed again. Leaving him alone. Alone and disconnected.

Scorpius reached into his pocket. He took out a piece of candy given to him by his mother and held it in his bony white fingers. "Offer to share your sweets with someone on the train," she'd told him. "It'll make it easier to talk to others." Scorpius felt his bottom lip quiver. How could he offer his sweets to someone if no one would even set foot into his cabin long enough to take a breath to speak? As Scorpius drowned in his thoughts, his attention suddenly snapped up when the compartment door opened again. "Any room in here?" a male's voice asked. Shocked, Scorpius blinked a few times, unable to find his voice to answer. "I-It's just me." he sputtered. His wide eyes fell upon a boy with thick dark hair and a girl with fiery red hair tied into a braid. "Come on, Albus." the girl muttered, tugging on the sleeve of his robe. "There's room in here, Rose." he replied. Albus? Rose? Were these the children that always seemed to be in the news—the ones related to Harry Potter? Scorpius's throat tightened. The girl didn't seem to want to stay and gave Albus a scolding look. "_Albus_," she urged through her teeth. "Remember what my dad said? About who to…keep a distance from?" Albus seemed just as confused as she was vehement. "So what?" He turned to Scorpius. "Hi, I'm Albus."

"Hi Scorpius, I'm Albus." Scorpius sputtered out, instantly realizing his mistake. "I-I mean, you're Albus…I'm Scorpius…I'm…I-It's nice to meet you." The girl again tugged on Albus's robe. "Scorpius _Malfoy_, cousin. You know, the one from all the rumors?" she hissed. But the boy was already chuckling and taking a seat. "Haha, can't keep your name straight, eh?" he laughed. Rose stamped her foot. "_Albus!_" she demanded. Scorpius held out his hand with the candy in it. "W-Would you like to share my sweets?" he stammered. Albus raised his eyebrows. "We could get something off the trolley too. I've got money with me." he offered. Scorpius, being so nervous at the interaction with another person, let out a tight congested cough. Rose sighed impatiently. "Have you got a cold?" she asked. Scorpius cleared his throat. "N-No, just cystic fibrosis." he wheezed. Rose blinked away an eyeroll and looked down the hallway. "_I'm_ going to find James. Perhaps he's picked a _better_ seat." she stated, swiftly turning away and closing the cabin door behind her. Scorpius felt a little stupefied by the judgment that had been passed upon him. And he was even more confused as to why Albus Potter decided to stay in his cabin. He looked up nervously, expecting Albus to excuse himself to go follow his cousin. But the boy leaned back in his seat. "I much prefer Pumpkin Pasties to Cauldron Cakes." he went on casually. Scorpius gulped in nervousness. "How'd you get so many sweets?" Albus asked.

"M-My mum…"

"Aw, that's nice of her. This past summer, I ate far too many sweets in one day and got such a stomachache, I turned green and lost a button off my pants. Had to go see a Healer at St. Mungo's. My mum was _so_ ticked off at me. She's now charmed the sweets jar with a password that I don't know so I can't get into it. And just when I've figured it out, she goes and changes it on me!"

"Y-Your mum's…Ginny Potter…"

"Yep, the former Ginny Weasley."

"A-And your dad…."

"Oh yeah. Harry Potter. The ever-famous boy who lived. And I'm fortunate enough to be his son." Albus stated with an eyeroll.

"I've read all about your family's adventures."

"…It's just…it's hard being the son of someone that important because a lot is…I dunno, expected of me."

"Me too. But in a different way. You're expected to do all these great things, and I'm expected to do horrible things."

Albus gave a half smile and a nod. "Perhaps we'd be better off being friends then. Let's face this pressure together." Scorpius felt his heart bubble. A friend. A friend? A friend! He found someone that wanted to be friends with him! He took another handful of sweets out of his robe pocket and held them out to Albus. "I insist," he urged. "Mum told me to share them with friends." Albus gave him a smile, plucking a chocolate out of the boy's hand. "Friends it is." he stated with a grin.


	14. Chapter 14

Scorpius eagerly looked up at the ceiling of the Great Hall over the hundreds of heads that were eating breakfast. The morning owl post was coming in any minute—Scorpius was expecting a letter back from his parents after he'd written them previously to tell them all kinds of news. He'd made a friend, been sorted into Slytherin just like his dad, answered two questions right in History of Magic that no one else in his class knew the answer to, stayed on top of his potion-taking, and had eaten a second helping of potatoes at dinner the night before. He hoped they'd be proud. Within his somewhat blurry distant vision, he saw a few muddled shapes begin flying in through the windows. Delivery time! His heart swelled. A gray owl swooped down and dropped an envelope into his lap, immediately taking flight again to nest in the owlry. Scorpius all but tore open the letter, eyes wide with enchantment. Sure enough, it was a message written in his mother's looping cursive.

_My dearest Scorpius,_

_Dad and I are so happy to hear how well you're doing. I'm very very proud of you for making a friend already. Did the sweets work? How wonderful that you're already earning your House points by being as brilliant as you are. History of Magic was my favorite in school. We couldn't be happier for you._

_Dad wants me to remind you of a few things (you know how he worries). By the time you get this, it will be Friday. Therefore, he urges me (really, he's right here over my shoulder) to tell you that Saturdays and Sundays are for resting. He says he's certain you'll have all of your homework caught up by the weekends anyway, but he wants you to spend those two days napping, resting, and staying peaceful. Please don't overexert yourself, Scorpius. As fretful as he is, he's right. Your health is our utmost concern. Please stay safe. I think he fears that since you're becoming friends with a Potter, your life is going to be adventure-filled and rambunctious._

_On top of all things, Scorpius, remember that we love you endlessly. The house is empty and lonesome without you. But filled with hope and anticipation of all the stories and knowledge you're going to bring to it come Christmastime. Congratulations on completing your first week at Hogwarts. Write whenever you'd like._

_Love always,_

_Mama and Dad_

Scorpius felt a nudge against his right shoulder several times in a row. "Scorpius!" he heard distantly. He looked up from his letter—Albus was trying to get his attention beside him. "Did you really not just hear me call your name eight hundred times?" the boy asked. "Are you deaf?" Scorpius immediately realized that he'd forgotten to use his hearing charm on the aids as soon as he'd woken up that morning, so everything sounded a bit muddled and strained. He quickly drew his wand and placed the tip against the back of his right ear on the plastic part embedded in his thin hair. He quietly murmured the incantation. After repeating his steps on the next ear, he looked at Albus and brightened. "Sorry," he chuckled. But Albus was still staring, wide-eyed and baffled. "What…what was that?" he asked. Scorpius shrugged nonchalantly. "I forgot to refresh my hearing charm when I woke this morning. Usually it lasts me through the day, at least until lunchtime."

"…Hearing charm?"

"Yes, the magnifier. It activates my hearing aids."

"Wait, wait, wait…you actually are deaf?"

"Not _deaf_, but just…hard of hearing. Don't other people having hearing aids too?"

"None that I've ever met. They're pretty rare in the wizarding world."

"…Oh…I didn't know that…."

Scorpius lowered his eyes back to the table, having realized his simple charm had caught the attention of some others around them at the table. They were whispering. Albus sensed a dim in the mood. He put a hand on Scorpius's shoulder. "You're just a rarity," he offered with a smile. "All good things are rare. Gold, diamonds, rubies, pearls, Scorpius Malfoy." The blonde boy grinned back, thanking his friend for cheering him up with his eyes. He pushed some scrambled eggs around on his plate and tried to pretend he wasn't bothered by the comments bumbling around the Slytherin table. Albus seemed to realize it too. He gathered his books into his schoolbag and slung it onto his shoulder, nudging Scorpius to inspire him to do the same. "Let's get to potions early. I didn't finish up the homework and could use your help to understand some stuff in case there's a quiz." he offered. More than happy to leave the chattering table, Scorpius dropped his fork and also grabbed his books, heading straight behind his new friend.

The very next morning, Scorpius let out a deep sigh as he snuggled against his soft sheets in his bed. There was a soft rumble of thunder off in the distance—rain pattered softly on the water in the Great Lake. Scorpius was more than happy with the Sorting Hat's placement. He loved the quiet stillness of the Slytherin dormitory in the early mornings. Everything was cool and dim, not too bright or harsh or blustery or loud. As he turned over, the chilly sheets cooled his warm skin, sending tiny shivers up his legs. Scorpius's slow breathing caught up in the top of his lungs a little, causing him to start coughing in an attempt to break up the mucus buildup that accumulated in the night. He wheezed up as much as he could as his vision swam from lack of oxygen. "For Merlin's sake, shut _up, Malfoy!_" a male voice groaned from a few four-posters down. Startled, Scorpius held his breath. "Every bloody morning, even a Saturday!" another voice complained. "Never getting any sleep around here. Go cough yourself to Azkaban with your Death Eater father where you belong!" A harsh hack threatened to force itself out of Scorpius's chest—he quickly covered his mouth with his hand to hold it back. A few more boys grumbled about their morning disturbance. That drowning feeling was coming back. Scorpius wildly searched for his robe, seizing it from the end of the bed and tossing it on. He leapt out of his four-poster and dragged himself to the door. Even in the commonroom, he knew it wasn't safe. They'd still hear him. Even the girls may hear him. He pushed harder and slumped out of the Slytherin commonroom altogether, desperately searching for a way to relieve the pressure in his lungs that was building up. As soon as he got out, he crumpled onto the ground. He coughed and coughed, gagged, sputtered, wheezed, heaved. Oh, that burning feeling. The aching. And then—the realization. It dawned upon him that he wasn't well liked and it had only been a week. The boys were already annoyed by him. They hated his family without even meeting them. Tears sprang up—how could he just stop coughing in the mornings when it was hardest to breathe?

The door behind him faintly creaked. Scorpius was sure it was probably louder than he'd heard it—he hadn't even had time to refresh his hearing charm that morning yet. He stayed on the ground, not wanting to look at who was going to see him there so pathetically. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up. Albus. The boy gave a sad smile, then held his hand up and opened it; revealing a small vial of the blue potion he needed in the mornings. Scorpius gratefully took it, signing "how?" in sign language. Speaking was impossible at this point anyway. Albus was a bit confused upon realizing that he didn't know how to answer his friend back. He leaned in close to Scorpius's ear. "I grabbed it from your trunk. That's the morning one you need, yeah?" he said slowly and loudly. Scorpius listened, took in all of the information. He nodded gratefully. Within seconds, he had the top off the vial and was drinking the spicy liquid back. That would definitely help with the coughing fit. He wheezed a bit and tried to catch his breath there on the floor—Albus stayed by his side. They didn't talk, but the presence of friendship was more than enough for the two of them. Scorpius was a bit glad at that point that he couldn't do much speaking. He wasn't quite sure how to put into words just how embarrassed, isolated, and exhausted he felt already after just one week of life at Hogwarts—not to Harry Potter's son, the child of the brave hero that everyone surely would adore.


	15. Chapter 15

Albus giggled as he kept pace with Scorpius, walking back from a rather exciting class in Care of Magical Creatures—the two were sharing a laugh over how Lorcan and Lysander Scamander had both managed to somehow fall out of their chairs one right after another in the middle of the lesson. The paid of odd twins were usually quite the spectacle, and seemed to be quite the hit of their year in Ravenclaw. Their next class was going to be Herbology—something Scorpius had become very very fond of even though his friend couldn't grow anything to save his life. It was only a few weeks into the term, but he was quite fond of their teachers and his grades were already soaring. Socially, things weren't going quite so well. To say the least, he was always glad he had Albus around as his friend or else Hogwarts would be a very lonely place.

As Albus let out another billowing laugh, Rose bustled up beside him and caught his elbow. "I need to talk to you, cousin." she seriously said, breaking the gleeful mood the boys were sharing. "Hi, Rose." Scorpius offered kindly. Rose narrowed her eyes. "Beat it Bread Head, I'm trying to talk to Albus." she haughtily remarked. Trying not to be wounded so as to not appear weak, Scorpius gave a polite smile and began to step away. Albus jerked his arm. "Come on, Rose. Don't be like that." he snapped. His angry gaze softened when he looked at his smaller blonde friend. "Let's go, Scorpius."

"_Albus_, I said I need to talk to you." Rose repeated.

"Fine, then talk to me."

"Without _him_,"

"Well _he_ is my friend and quite frankly is far kinder than you so I think I'm choosing my company wisely."

"You're an idiot."

"So are you."

"Um…" Scorpius timidly interrupted. "Neither of you are idiots, but I'd be glad to step away and let you have a conversation. Albus, I-I'll see you in Herbology."

Without hesitation, the boy quickened his pace and stepped away, despite hearing Albus's pleas to not feel the need to depart. Angrily, Albus stopped walking and turned to face Rose. "Why do you have to be like that?" he glowered. She put her head up. "I have to talk to you about him, Albus. Otherwise you're going to be too wrapped up in him to hear what I have to say."

"Who says I care what you have to say?"

"Listen. There's word going around Gryffindor house—something about the boy you _insist_ upon being friendly with. Remember what my dad said about his father? About how he was a Death Eater, and how he tried to kill Dumbledore himself? Albus, his father used Dark magic. And now look—Scorpius and his mother are both irreparably ill. Doesn't that stand out to you in some way?"

"Sure—genetics. Inheritance. Passing down traits."

"Or a _curse_. Nina Kosici's auntie works at St. Mungo's—she said that after the war, Scorpius's dad went nearly mad and had to be admitted there for a very long time. She said he'd nearly lost his mind and screamed almost every night while he was there. And when he got out, he married and had a child—both of which he hid away because they were mysteriously fatally ill. Albus, don't you see? Scorpius's dad cursed him and his mother. He used Dark magic to kill them but in a slow way so that it wouldn't be obvious. Don't you think he'd target the son of his greatest enemies—our parents—and encourage Scorpius to befriend you so that he can kill you next?"

"I think you've lost me on this."

"Are you thick? Everyone says the rumor is that Scorpius is Voldemort's child, but they've got it wrong. Scorpius is the son of a Dark Lord, but an up-and-coming one. Albus, his father is trying to bring back Dark magic and control it! And he's using Scorpius to do it!"

Albus stood for a moment, following what Rose said but begging his mind to stop dwelling on it. "You're mental," he said slowly. Rose put her hands on her hips. "Perhaps you should read a bit about the side effects of the Imperius Curse, Albus Potter. That is, if you aren't too busy getting friendly with the son of a Death Eater to even open a book." She swiftly turned away and began walking again, leaving Albus standing alone. He shook his head in confusion. Why would Rose go and tell him something like that? Why would anyone willingly hand out information about someone's family to an entire House like Nina Kosici did? It had to be mad—there was no way Scorpius was under an Imperius Curse, or that his father was trying to reinstate Dark magic himself. Albus tried to straighten himself and continue on in the direction of the Herbology greenhouse. His legs were numb with every step.

Later in the evening, Scorpius and Albus sat across from one another in the library, trying to finish some Charms homework after dinner. Despite having gone through the rest of the day of classes and a meal, Albus still couldn't get Rose's rumor report out of his head. How much of that was even true, and how much was bias? Or lies? He wondered what his father would think. Perhaps he could write his father. He worked at the ministry, he should be able to do some investigating. Albus glanced up from his parchment to look at the boy across from him. Scorpius had such a peaceful, interested look on his face as his quill scribbled away with three books open on the desk before him. He just looked so sweet. Instantly, guilt crept over Albus for thinking something like that about his friend. As Scorpius flipped a page in the book before him, he briefly met eyes with Albus. He offered a gentle smile. Suddenly though, his smile faded and worry clouded his eyes. He tapped behind his ears. "Were you calling me? Were you talking? Oh no, perhaps the charm wore off these. It never seems to last long enough. Did I miss something? Did you need me?" he nervously sputtered. Albus couldn't help but give a little grin at his how quickly his friend flustered at things. "No, no, I didn't say anything." he assured. "I was just looking at you." Scorpius made a face and tugged his hair down. "Ew, don't subject yourself to that. You'll vomit." he replied, looking away. Albus's fingers fiddled with the pages of the book that he had in front of him as well. Just a few pageturns away was a chapter about Dark spells, their uses, and their history. Part of him wanted to just completely ignore it, shut the book, and erase all curiosity about the rumors from his brain. But another part of him, a small part, wanted to read about these "side effects" Rose had mentioned, and see just how many of them pertained to Scorpius. The blonde boy had returned to writing away with his quill, his soft gray eyes illuminated by the flickering fireplace. He seemed to shiver slightly. "Ooh," he quietly murmured. "Quite cold in here. It must be getting late." Without even thinking, Albus reached to the back of his chair and grabbed his robe. He walked over to Scorpius and draped it around his shoulders. The smaller boy tried to refuse, but Albus insisted that he wear it for some extra warmth while they finished up. Scorpius thanked him. "I never know why," he said. "But I always just seem to get such a chill that rushes through my blood at times."

Albus swallowed hard. He couldn't help it. He had to look at that stuff about the Imperius Curse. He quickly maneuvered his book so that Scorpius wouldn't be able to see the pages and flipped through the chapters to reach his information. _The Imperius Curse_, the book read, _was a Dark spell used by Death Eaters and Voldemort at the time of the Wizarding War to control others and get them to follow their bidding easily. Many Death Eaters escaped Azkaban sentencing in the First Wizarding War by claiming to be under the influence of the Imperius Curse. Most notably, Lucius Malfoy was one of the many to have made this claim._ Albus's heart clamored. Lucius Malfoy was Scorpius's paternal grandfather—he'd heard many stories about him from his own dad. His eyes skipped down a bit, skimming until he found some relevant words to his inquiries. _Those under the Imperius Curse may not distinctly show it. Though there are some poignant physical attributes of a wizard who is being manipulated by another. Like all Dark magic, this spell is physically draining on the body—the wizard influenced may appear weakened, frail, tired, and have unusual pallor. He may be susceptible to falling ill or faint due to the decreased desire to eat or drink. Usually the thoughts of the controller consume the desires of the influenced. _Albus felt the room spin. He looked up at Scorpius without thinking. He took in the sight of his small, slight friend who was currently trying to stifle a cough by covering his mouth with his bony fingers. The dark circles under his eyes hallowed his face, his limp hair made him look especially ill. Albus tried to think back to their dinner—Scorpius never actually ever ate very much. In fact, the kids teased him and called him "bird boy" for eating like a bird. Mulling all this over, Albus forgot how obvious it was that he was once again staring hard at his friend. Scorpius reached across the table. "Are you alright, Albus?" he asked softly.

Albus blinked a few times. He shook his head. "Yeah," he stated. "Fine," Scorpius drew back worriedly, and upon moving his hand glanced down at Albus's book which had fallen open onto the table. He seemed puzzled. With hurt eyes, he looked up. "You heard that one too?" How did he know? Albus bit his lip. "And you thought it was true?" Scorpius continued, tears brimming at his eyes. "You really thought it was true?"

"I-I…I'm sorry."

"Even you can't trust me?"

"Scorpius…no, that isn't it. It isn't that. I-I…I just shouldn't have listened to the stupid Gryffindor rumor, that's all. It's my fault. It wasn't about you or trust—it was my own stupidity."

"Who told you?"

"Well…Rose did, but she'd heard it from Nina Kosici."

"…Do you think it's at all true?"

Albus stopped for a moment. He could see just how hurt Scorpius was by this—how betrayed he was feeling. Suddenly he realized that Scorpius couldn't be acting with such emotion and such desire to fit in if he was under any kind of Curse. Scorpius was one of the most genuine people he knew. The most sensitive, emotional, kindhearted, good-spirited first-year Slytherin he'd met so far. Albus firmly shut the book in front of him. "Not one bit," he said. "Not a single word of that silly rumor is true. I know that for a fact. And I'll tell everyone I know without shame. You're just wonderful Scorpius. I suppose the only reason why I was looking was because deep down I knew the rumor was just wrong, and I wanted to see for himself how wrong it was." Scorpius seemed to lighten a little at that. His tensed shoulders relaxed a bit. "Scorpius, how did you even hear about that rumor?" Albus asked. The boy sighed. "Antonio Zabini shouted it in the boys' bathroom a few days ago. Everyone heard. I just got out of there as quick as I could. But now everyone's sort of abuzz about it." Albus reached over and put a firm hand on top of the bony fingers across from him. "Well just wait," he said. "The moment I hear it again, I'm going to battle for you. I promise. I'm sorry I doubted you. I really am." Scorpius gave a sad smile. He could see that Albus meant what he said. He gave a nod, thanking his friend for the confidence. Albus too relaxed a bit. He didn't want to risk his friendship over listening to someone's stupid gossip—he probably knew Scorpius best out of everyone at Hogwarts—he was his only friend. Standing up again, he went around the table of books to the back of Scorpius's chair. He wrapped his arms around his friend's shoulders. "Oh…" Scorpius murmured. "Oh, we're hugging? We get to hug?" he awkwardly asked. Albus smiled. "Yeah you goof, we hug. That's what friends do."


	16. Chapter 16

There wasn't particularly much that Scorpius was enjoying about Hogwarts these days.

But there was one thing that he had come to realize was especially beautiful and able to brighten his mood.

All of the sparkling Christmas decorations that filled the Great Hall and the corridors of the school brought a certain uplift to everyone's spirits. At dinner, Scorpius was pleased to be able to have a warm drink of hot chocolate with peppermint which ultimately soothed him enough to aid in falling asleep. Even in the library, high shelves were adorned with garland and tinsel, and glistening trees stood proudly in the corners. Scorpius sat across from Albus at a table watching the snow fall peacefully outside. He couldn't wait to finally escape here and go home to his mother and father. In the more recent weeks, things had become increasingly difficult on him socially. Many of the other students had begun calling him "Voldemort's Child". They teased him for his slight frame and inability to really defend himself. They pulled pranks on him, stole his scarves and sweaters when they could, and oh when they rummaged through his trunk and found his favorite stuffed dragon. Scorpius had never been more embarrassed in his life. He'd brought his stuffed dragon along with him to Hogwarts in case he felt homesick—it had always been his favorite toy because it was the first toy he'd held in his own home and not the hospital. To his horror, some of the Slytherin boys stole the dragon and tied it up, hanging it upside-down from his own fourposter. He never ever told his parents any of this. If he did, they'd just worry. But things were pretty miserable for the youngest Malfoy, and consequently he spent a lot of time with Albus in the library where it was quiet and secluded. They'd become very close friends by this point in the year. Each had their own difficulties to face, but they'd found that things were a little better when they had each other to face them with. Albus relied on Scorpius for encouragement and confidence, and Scorpius relied on Albus for support and kindness. They were a good pair of friends. Their strengths seemed to compliment each other well. Scorpius realized that maybe there were two good things about Hogwarts then—the Christmas decorations and Albus Severus Potter…

_Thump!_ Scorpius jumped a mile when a large vibration on the table startled him out of his musings. He turned away from the window and saw Rose Granger-Weasley standing before their table, having just dropped a heavy book onto the surface. Albus swore at her brash arrival. "I've been doing some research," she said with raised eyebrows, ignoring her cousin's cursing. She was looking straight at Scorpius. Nervously, he raised an awkward hand. "H-Hi, Rose…" he stammered. She pushed the book on the table a bit closer to him. "Your condition. Cystic fibrosis, is it? It's incurable and will ultimately drive you to an early grave. Am I right?" she went on. Albus looked horrified. "Rose, have you no—"

"But I am right, aren't I Bread Head?" she cut in. Scorpius gave an anxious nod.

"Y-Yep," he murmured.

"Here in the wizarding world that's right. But in the Muggle world…" She flipped the book open. "There's a way to rid of it forever."

"How can there be a cure for something so rare in the Muggle world when they haven't any magic?" Albus asked incredulously. Rose rolled her eyes.

"Albus, it isn't necessarily a _cure_, but it's a way they go about actually removing the disease, though it's very risky."

"H-How can they remove something that's wrong with me? Is it like a very specific potion?" Scorpius asked, genuinely interested now.

"No. Clearly, cystic fibrosis mainly affects your chest—the lungs. The only way to take away the disease is to remove the part that's causing the problem. So they put the person on a table, get them to sleep, cut them open, take out their lungs, and put new ones in."

Albus gagged. "Easy as that, huh?" he sarcastically retorted.

"I appreciate your research, Rose," Scorpius politely offered. "But why…why do you…um…care?"

"Because, Bread Head. You're about to go home for Christmas holiday. It may benefit you to sit down with your extraordinarily rich parents and discuss this option with them before it's too late and you can't have new lungs put in."

"What does money have to do with it?"

"Come on, it's the Muggle world. Everything's expensive."

"But it…it doesn't even make sense. Why would I ever want someone to cut me in half and take things out of me? My organs may not be the greatest but I'd like to keep what I have!"

"Fine, live in fear then. I guess that's why you're in Slytherin. But I just thought you may want to have some options to take home with you over holiday to at least entertain the idea of living to see your twenties."

Rose flipped her fiery hair and turned on heel, leaving the boys sitting at their table. Albus was looking at Scorpius hard. "W-What?" the blonde asked. Albus appeared concerned, worried, and angry all at once. "Living to see your twenties?" he asked lowly. "Does that mean there's a chance—" Scorpius quickly looked back outside to avoid making eye contact. "Yes, there's a large chance that I won't live past eighteen because of my conditions." he rushed out. This wasn't something he'd planned on sharing with Albus, or with anyone really. He didn't want anyone pitying him, or babying him. He was well aware that his life was going to be short and he just wanted to make it worthwhile. A long silence passed before Albus shook his head. "You're really sick," he said in disbelief. "Like you're really not doing well. I thought all this time you just had poor immunity or something, or that cystic fibrosis was just…something your medicine was going to cure you of someday. I didn't know it was going to…to kill you." Scorpius didn't say anything—a lump had come to his throat. He continued staring out the window at the snow drifting down. They must've sat for at least an hour in silence, neither one saying anything to one another. Even when it was time to leave, they just both wordlessly stood up, grabbed their belongings, and retreated to the Slytherin dormitory.

Scorpius leaned over the sink in the bathroom as hot water streamed out of the tap. He took a slow breath, catching the steam in his inhalation to break up the congestion in his lungs. He and Albus still hadn't spoken. Whenever he'd briefly mention his condition to Albus in conversation, he never dwelled on it—it wasn't something he wanted defining him or standing out about him really. He just wanted a friend, someone to be close to, without having to wonder if he was only being nice because of the illness. Another deep breath into the steam. Scorpius gave a cough in attempt to help the mucus move around a bit more. But unfortunately, that cough sparked another, and soon he was choking and gagging as his lungs were unable to fill with air again. He quickly shut off the water, doubling over in an attempt to shorten the passage his breath had to take, and he crawled into a toilet stall where he emptied the contents of his stomach violently from the heavy strain being put on his torso. Weakly, he wheezed and sputtered. He sank down onto the floor and leaned against the wall. His head fell back. A cold sweat lined his forehead and neck—meeting with the chilled air of the castle, it caused him to shiver.

Suddenly, he felt like he was being handled—lifted, almost. He was being pulled onto someone's lap. That was odd, he hadn't even heard anyone come in. Scorpius opened his tired, swollen eyes to see who'd found him in such a state. He met green eyes, dark hair, and a worried face. Albus. Albus seemed to bite his lip. He pulled Scorpius closer into a makeshift hug and gently rocked him back and forth. Scorpius still felt a little shaky and definitely hadn't yet regained his strength, but it was nice to be held like this. It was almost like how his mama used to hold him when he'd get sick. A little while passed. As Scorpius became more aware of his surroundings, he noticed that Albus had brought a blanket in with him and had wrapped him up in it as best he could. He was pushing the weak strands of blonde bangs across Scorpius's forehead gently. It was getting to be late at night, and the amplification charms were noticeably wearing off of the boy's hearing aids. Despite this, he heard Albus murmur close to his ear. "If you can hear me, please promise me that you'll talk to your mum and dad about that thing Rose was going on about. Don't live like this. Not when it could be different. And I just…I can't imagine life without you, Scorpius." Scorpius processed this. Though it was particularly difficult to hear without straining, he heard every word of what his friend had pleaded. He realized his voice was hoarse from the coughing fit that had torn up his throat. And Albus hadn't quite yet mastered sign language for these nighttime chats, though he was getting better. All Scorpius knew he could do was give his head a nod against the boy's shoulder. He knew Albus must've understood, because he felt his chest give a sigh, and his arms hug him just a little bit tighter.


	17. Chapter 17

Scorpius thoughtfully rested his chin on his hand as he sat in History of Magic class, the sunlight streaming onto his pale skin through the old glass windows that he loved. There wasn't any class he enjoyed spending time in more. For years and years of his life, he'd read hundreds of books about Hogwarts, about magic, and about famous heroes that changed the world. Getting to take a class and ask questions about his favorite subject was something he'd never take for granted. And even though Professor Binns was as old as a fossil, he always gave Scorpius the answers he sought. The young boy seemed to be the only one that held an interest in the material. It was nearing the end of the first year, and Scorpius couldn't have been any more excited to go home for the summer—his wonderful Christmas holiday with his parents supplied him with enough love and hope to get through the remaining term, but things were starting to wear on him. The bullying was worse than ever. It felt like every day he woke up, someone was shoving him on the stairs, stealing his homework, turning his trunk upside down and spilling out all of the contents onto his bed and floor. It hurt. It all hurt. The world was lonely. Isolating. Harsh.

Over Christmas holiday, Scorpius gingerly brought up the topic of the Muggle procedure to help him get rid of his cystic fibrosis. Though he quickly ended it and never brought it up again after his mother reacted strongly to the notion of anyone cutting her son open—especially a healer, a doctor, she hadn't known since the day he was born. He hadn't meant to upset her. He vowed to himself never to speak of such a dangerous and painful topic again, even if it was just asking for his own well-being. There was something different about his mother those days. She seemed very agitated, like she was trying to keep composed but failing. His father barely spoke, just stuck beside her and kept everything around the home in order while Scorpius was there. Being back at Hogwarts, though painful as it was, provided a little bit of relief from the trouble going on back at Malfoy Manor.

Scorpius quickly scribbled in the corner of his parchment notebook—Professor Binns had mentioned something he wanted to ask him about after class. They were discussing the strength of the Unforgiveable Curses and how many wizards had lived through them throughout history. Scorpius remembered reading a few years ago about a medieval witch named Bethsida Gonzalez who'd written a book about her time under the Imperius curse before it was a known curse. He wanted to ask Professor Binns if he was familiar with the literature, and if he thought it was speculation or real truth. "Wizards and witches who survive Curses such as these," the old teacher droned on. "have been known in history as some of the bravest of all time." Just as he finished off the sentence, Albus's head nodded forward. He'd dozed off again. Unfortunately as Scorpius glanced up to look at him, it called Professor Binns's attention to the sleeping student, and he abruptly called his name and asked him a question. "Mr. Potter? In your opinion, the bravest wizard of all time?" Albus's eyes snapped open and he blinked rapidly. "My dad," he automatically answered. Scorpius repressed a smile—he'd gotten lucky that that answer had worked this time. Professor Binns didn't seem convinced, but then called upon Lorcan and Lysander, who had also dozed off together. "The Scamanders? Lorcan and Lysander? The bravest wizard of all time in your opinion?" he asked. The blonde twins immediately sat up. "His dad!" they shouted out together. A giggle rippled through the class.

Scorpius raised his hand—this might be a good time to ask his question about Bethsida Gonzalez since they were talking about the bravest in history. Professor Binns looked kindly upon Scorpius, a model student. "Mr. Malfoy? Would you like to share who you believe is the bravest wizard of all time?" he asked. Scorpius lowered his hand, nervous now. He hadn't meant to actually answer the question. "Um…" he murmured as his fingers anxiously toyed with his quill. "I mean…i-if we're talking about who _I_ think is very brave…I-I would definitely say my dad—" The class gasped. All eyes turned upon him. His heart sped up. "I-I mean…m-my dad…my dad has had a lot to face…and not a lot of it was particularly his fault…" Whispers broke out. Rose whirled around in her seat in front of him. "_Stop talking!_" she hissed. Scorpius's face blushed—he could feel himself digging his character deeper and deeper into a hole. "W-Well what I mean is…my dad faces a lot every day…and he still stays very strong. M-My mum is ill, and she's his best friend—he says she's the only friend he's ever had. And of course then all he and my mum ever wanted was a child and look what they got…me…but he made it through the hard part of his life in a very dark time and yet he's still so…brave for us, his family.…I dunno, think if I had to go through everything my dad did, I would've given up by his age. H-He's…he's very strong and I j-just think he's very brave." Someone from the back of the class chucked a balled up scrap of parchment at Scorpius's head. People giggled again. Professor Binns raised his hands to quiet them. "Settle down, students. Settle down. No need for any of that." Scorpius's face was scarlet at this point and a cold sweat was beading on his forehead. He glanced over at his deskmate, Albus, who was searching the classroom wildly for who threw the parchment. He knew Albus understood what he was trying to say. It just wasn't coming out quite right.

Professor Binns was desperately trying to reroute the class's attention. "How dare he?" Scorpius heard a Ravenclaw girl mutter to her friend behind him. "How could he even suggest that his coward father is the bravest wizard?" Scorpius realized how people were interpreting what he was trying to say. "No, no! I meant that I think he's very very brave for what he has to face every day! My dad was there during the war, he saw terrible things and had terrible things happen to him, but he still has the courage to wake up every day and face his life—" he frantically tried to explain, but he was cut off by another student who loudly yelled, "_Draco Malfoy is the biggest coward in wizard history!_" Scorpius looked around the room anxiously. People were chattering away to one another, Rose was agitated and arguing with a boy from her House, Lorcan and Lysander were delighted with the chaos and planned to sneak out of lecture. Scorpius tried to further clarify his point, but Albus stopped him by putting his hand over the pale bony one on the desk. It was no use. People were going to say what they were going to say. Professor Binns tapped his wand on the stack of books he'd piled in the front of the room to gather everyone's attention. Within a few minutes people had begun to settle down, but Scorpius could still feel burning glares and nasty looks being thrown his way.

As soon as class ended, Scorpius grabbed his books and tore out of the classroom doors. He hurried down the corridor without looking back and rushed down the stairs. He just wanted to get to the Slytherin dormitories. Unfortunately though, his burning lungs angrily flared at him, causing him to lose his breath quickly. He veered into the out-of-order bathroom closest to him to hide and have a good cry. Immediately, he curled up on the floor under a sink and let out a heavy sob. Why did everything have to be so difficult? School, home, life… It wasn't fair. He covered his face with his hands, gasping out. A long time passed as he just suffered quietly by himself.

Suddenly, Scorpius heard a girl's voice. It was ethereal, light. Odd. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again," it said, coming closer. Scorpius wiped his eyes. "What brings you back after all this time?" He looked up. A girl was indeed standing before him, but she wasn't a girl at all! "A-Are y-y-you…a ghost?" Scorpius stammered. The girl dramatically sighed. "_All these years have gone by, and Draco Malfoy lost the memory of his only friend simply because she's dead and can't go on!_" she wailed. Scorpius hiccupped and wiped his eyes again on his robes. "Draco?" he asked. "I-I'm not Draco…I'm his s-son, Scorpius." The ghostly girl cocked her head, her rounded glasses making her eyes appear even bigger. "Draco Malfoy grew up? And married? And had a son?" she asked. Scorpius nodded. She squealed. "Ohhh what a lucky woman your mother is, Scorpius Malfoy! Though…I guess I can't really ever say that your father and I could've been more than just friends…you know…with me _being a ghost and all!_" Immediately, she burst into tears again. Scorpius sat up a bit and just wanted the ghost to stop crying and help him answer some questions. "Um…e-excuse me…but y-you said you were my dad's friend?"

"Of course. Of course I was. That poor tortured soul. He carried far too much on his shoulders so young in his life. We spent hours talking together when he was in school here. He was so lonely."

"…I know."

"And of course, I was too, because who would ever come and visit poor, dead_, miserable Moaning Myrtle!_" more tears.

"My dad had a lot forced upon him that wasn't his fault."

"Oh, that boy. He just wanted to save his mother. His family. He was afraid. I don't blame him. Who wouldn't be? With the Dark Lord controlling every aspect of your life and watching you like an owl watches prey—it's terrible! He said he envied me, being dead and all."

A chill prickled Scorpius's neck. He tried to forget about her last statement. "Would you say that my dad was brave?" he asked. "Do you think he did his best to show courage even though he wasn't dealt a fair hand?"

"Of course. He was brilliant—the only one to ever find a way past Dumbledore's protection charms, the only one to be given an impossible task by the Dark Lord and swear his life to the cause. And he persevered through it. He made it out alive."

Scorpius felt his heart lighten a little bit. At least someone understood. Suddenly, he heard rushed footsteps coming into the entrance of the bathroom. Moaning Myrtle looked up and then back at Scorpius. "Tell your father I said hello, won't you?" she asked with a wink before zooming directly into the third toilet stall on the left. The footsteps hurried in. "There you are, Scorpius!" Albus's voice called. He and Rose came into view. "Scorpius, don't listen to them in class. They haven't any idea what your family's gone through. And none of it is your fault." he went on. Scorpius rubbed his face and sniffled. Rose gathered his books and handed him to them as Albus helped him stand up. "I've already spoken to Headmistress McGonagall about those boys in class," she stated. "She's going to speak with them about throwing things and putting their nose into others' business." Scorpius felt himself chuckle weakly—he could hear Headmistress McGonagall saying it just that way too. Albus put an arm around his friend's shoulders. "Please tell me you're alright?" he asked gently. "That you'll put this out of mind, and won't pay any attention to those boneheads in class?" Scorpius nodded. He appreciated them coming to his aid when he needed it most. Albus brushed a hand over the boy's pale cheek to clear some more of the stray tears. He then pulled his thin frame into a hug. After a moment, Albus pulled back and rubbed his arms soothingly. "Want to go to the library with me? I need to get started on that final Transfiguration essay that's due tomorrow and of course I could use your help." Rose sighed and rolled her eyes. "Albus, you've waited this long? We're supposed to have been working on it for three weeks now!" Scorpius nodded again, grateful for the chance to escape from the cold bathroom floor and the burning glares of his classmates. He coughed a bit. Albus kept an arm around him as the three headed out the door. "I think I'm going to write a letter to my dad," Scorpius murmured on their way. "I want to tell him that I think he's brave, and that there are…other people who agree with me." Rose bit her lip and rolled her eyes, but Albus gave a firm and friendly nod. "Great idea," he supported.


	18. Chapter 18

Returning home for the summer was like nothing he'd expected.

Scorpius was immediately forced to face the fact that his mother's health had sharply declined and she was not doing well. Though it absolutely pained him to no end to see her suffering, it was also just as terrible to see how his father was having to handle it. He just seemed so hollow on the inside—there was such heavy sadness in his eyes, but his voice and mannerisms never showed it. He pressed on. He did absolutely everything around the manor and was always by his wife's side. Scorpius could almost feel how desperate his father's heart was.

With the sudden decline in health came a new room in the manor, just a few doors down from where Scorpius slept. He never knew what was inside. It actually remained locked, and Scorpius didn't want to invade anyone's privacy or break anyone's trust by trying to enter. Whenever he walked by, it smelled of lilies. It made him a bit nervous, in a way, that there was a secret in his home that he was clearly not to know about. But now was not the time to be probing or asking questions. Not when things weren't looking so good for his mother. So to help get over the memory, Scorpius spent much of his time in the family library studying, reading, and writing to Albus. He had sent Rose a letter or two as well, but never got a response. When Scorpius wasn't busy keeping his mind occupied, he tried to spend as much time with his mother as possible—much of it consisted of lying in bed with her, snuggled up to her side, holding her hand while she rested. It used to be his favorite feeling in the world—when he'd get to sleep right in between his mother and father. So much comfort. So much love. But Draco wasted no time lying around. He was always brewing potions, making tea, warming blankets, and tending to that secret room.

Scorpius loved to stay with his mother and tell her all about Hogwarts—how much he was learning, the marks he'd received, his closest friend Albus, how proud he was to be in Slytherin. Astoria always listened with a smile. Though sometimes she had to keep her eyes closed because she was so weak. Scorpius decided it was best to leave out all mention of any bullying that he was facing. It wasn't going to help any part of their family's current situation, and besides, something like that seemed so trivial compared to what they were going through now. Even though Astoria couldn't leave her bed, she always offered acknowledgement that she was listening to her son talk to her. She did her best to stroke his hair, touch his cheek, hold his hand. Astoria knew that while her time was precious, his was too. She didn't want to forget that. Not even in her last moments.

In short, Scorpius spent the entire summer worrying. He was in constant confusion. Anxiety. Indecisiveness. He wanted to help his father take care of the household, but he didn't want to be in the way. He wanted to spend as much time as he could with his mother, but he didn't want to exhaust her. He wanted to go out in the garden and tend the wilting flowers for her, but he himself didn't feel 100% and was warned several times by his father not to go outside. He wished he could see his grandmother, but for some reason his father went rigid whenever he mentioned her and she was never brought up in conversation. Everything was complicated. So complicated. But he gave everything his best shot. What else could he do?

It was nearing the end of the summer of fret when Scorpius sat curled up on his favorite soft sofa in the library. Again, he was worrying because he'd come across several stacks of parchment in the old study (which he'd only been in because he had heard his father telling his mother that the manor was far too dusty and contributing to her feeling ill, so he took it upon himself to help dust and clean in hopes it may make things better and ohhhh even more to be anxious about…) that appeared to be medical records from St. Mungo's. He thought they were his from when he was a baby. So eagerly, he brought them down to the library to give them a read and see things like what he weighed, when he started some milestones, his overall progress. It might be interesting. But instead, he quickly found out that these records were not his at all. They were his father's. And apparently Moaning Myrtle had been right—his father was in quite a state after the war. Scorpius had given the first few pages of consult notes a scan before the deep-seated guilt, panic, and fear set in the pit of his stomach. Things jumped out at him—phrases like "a danger to himself and others", "suicidal ideations", "frequent recurring nightmares", "refusal to eat or drink provided fares", and most sickeningly "admission to ongoing attempts of suicide". The shakiness that Scorpius was feeling was most definitely attributed to the fact that he felt he was doing something wrong—invading his father's privacy, most definitely. But he also hated the idea that his father, the bravest man in the whole world, had once been so…_broken_. Scorpius knew in his heart that he should not continue reading these records. But the curiosity. The desire to know his father better inside and out. It was too strong.

He flipped forward a few pages and read a report from a Healer that stated that Draco had been having fits of uncontrollable crying in the nights and could not be consoled. Scorpius's heart hurt. His dad must've suffered so much. A few more pages forward, and he read that Draco had also been caught hiding the food they were giving him instead of eating it in hopes that he could starve himself to death. It felt like someone drove a stake right through Scorpius's chest. He hated that this was how his father felt at one point in his life. And it scared him—did he ever fully recover? Was he still thinking and feeling these things now? Could someone ever go from thinking such horrible thoughts about themselves to being comfortable with their past and who they were? Scorpius shivered. Abruptly, the library doors opened. Heart racing, Scorpius shoved the papers under his blanket just in time for Draco to not be able to see them as he entered the room. "Scorpius," he said gravely, tears dancing in his eyes. "I-I need you to come see your mother."

Something was wrong. Scorpius could tell. Obediently, he jumped up and followed his father closely up the stairs and down the hallway. He thought they were headed to the bedroom—but instead Draco stopped in front of that secret door. He faced Scorpius but did not look at him. "Son," he said softly. "This was…a special room that mama and I put together shortly after Christmas when…things started to go downhill for her. Mama said she…didn't want to…pass away in the room she and I shared, in the bed we slept in. We knew…the time was coming. And she just…she didn't want to go that way. So we made a special room—a peaceful room—for when it was time…" Draco now had tears streaming down his face. "For when it was time for her to go. So Scorpius…this…this is going to be the time for you to say goodbye to mama. There's…nothing more we can do than to ensure she…goes in the way that she wishes." Scorpius felt a stab of grief. He shook his head. "N-No…" he murmured. "Mama can't be…she can't be…dying….She and I had so many…we had plans…"

"Death isn't fair, Scorpius." Draco abruptly said with a firmness in his voice. He tried to soften. "But we cannot fool ourselves into thinking that we didn't expect this."

As painful as it was to accept, Scorpius knew his father was right. He'd known for years that his mother was ill. That she wasn't going to be around forever. He just wished it didn't have to be this soon. Draco opened the locked door quietly. Scorpius was instantly enveloped in a warmth that carried on the air a scent of fresh lilies. All around the room there were flowers. Bouquets and bouquets and bouquets of flowers. His mother lay in a bed that was quite beautiful. The way the natural light came through the window was indeed very peaceful. It was like a small serenity in this room. He immediately understood why his mother wanted something like this prepared. His mother's Healer was there but was quiet in the corner—there really was nothing that could be done. Scorpius went to his mother's side, gently taking her fair hand. She couldn't open her eyes. But he knew she could hear him. "Mama…" his voice began in a whisper, but almost immediately broke with the choking tears clouding his vision. He held back a sob. "Mummy…" he tried again. "…T-Thank you…for everything." A heavy, heavy cry bottled up in his lungs—how he wanted to scream like a toddler. Scream until his stupid weak lungs gave out and he could fade into blackness. "I l-love you…mama," he whispered, kissing her hand. Though he knew it was wishful thinking, he swore he saw a smile flicker on her face briefly.

He stepped back. It was as if someone unleashed an entire shipping crate full of blood-sucking moths into his chest and stomach. Panic. Sheer panic. His fingertips went numb, his lips trembled, a cold sweat broke out all over his body. He whirled around to face his father, desperately reaching out towards him. "I-I-I…" he stammered, feeling his throat tighten and his breathing go shallow. "I-I-I can't d-do it….I-I'm n-not ready, daddy…!" Draco pulled Scorpius into a tight embrace—harder than he'd ever hugged him before. "I'm not ready either," he whispered, tears gushing down his cheeks. "We can do this. It's you and I now. We may not be ready, but we're capable." Scorpius finally choked out the wretched sob that had been tangled up inside him since the beginning. Hearing his son wail in agony at the loss of his mother absolutely broke Draco's heart into a million, trillion pieces. Scorpius felt nothing but sheer pain. Sheer grief. His mother, his loyal protector, his best friend, his biggest supporter, was gone. Gone from his world. Forever. There would be no more baking, no more gardening, no more soft laughter, no more trips to the book shop, no more early morning runs to the apothecary, no more gentle hugs, no more snuggles in the night when the bad dreams wouldn't stop. A thousand things rushed through Scorpius's head all at once. How was he going to survive? Who was going to take care of him? His daddy would, but who would take care of daddy? Was he mentally healthy enough to carry on? He'd suffered just as much if not more loss—this could break him. What if his dad went back to thinking and feeling the way he did after the war? What if he did something to himself, causing Scorpius to lose both parents? What if Scorpius wouldn't be enough help for his father in this difficult time? In sheer terror of what this new life was going to be like, in desolate grief from this horrible tragedy, and in raging anger at life for being so cruel to the Malfoy family for generations, Scorpius drew in a deep breath, the biggest he possibly ever did…

And he let out a piercing, sickening, soul-wrenching scream.


	19. Chapter 19

Draco sat at his desk, one hand holding up his chin, the other trembling while grasping a piece of parchment. The elegant handwriting stared at him. Bore into his soul. The silence and stillness of the study surrounding him didn't ease any of the tension he was facing by reading and rereading this letter from the headmistress of Hogwarts. He didn't want to believe it. He wished it was another nightmare he could wake up from. But it wasn't. Scorpius had fallen at school. Of course, to any other parent this would be the most boring news in the world—so what, the kid fell facefirst and landed on his elbows. Big deal. But Draco wasn't an ordinary parent. He was the father, the only surviving guardian, of a very frail and ill child.

It was a big deal for Scorpius to fall.

Because it wasn't just a simple 'oops, I tripped and stumbled on my way to class'. It was the fact that he had been heading down to the Slytherin dormitory and became completely depleted of breath on the stairs, he'd turned blue, his lungs went stagnant. The low oxygen in his blood sent him straight into hypoxia. It stilled his brain. Caused him to faint. And fainting on the stairs led to him falling backward, smashing his head against the stone, and tumbling farther with a bad landing on his left arm. A fracture. His weak bones couldn't take something so dramatic. Thank god the Potter kid was there with him when it happened—he ran and got help and had Scorpius sent to the hospital wing. This incident prompted Headmistress McGonagall to send an owl to Draco immediately. Ever since Astoria's death, Scorpius seemed to get weaker and weaker—as if the grief physically manifested itself in him and caused all of his conditions to worsen. Though Astorai passed in early September and it was now February, it had been a very rough few months for him. He'd been sent out of the classroom seven separate times for uncontrollable coughing fits. The dust from the new potions book cabinet gave him such bad wheezing that he literally had to keep his book in the commonroom and away from his bed just to be able to breathe right (which of course left the chance wide open for his fellow students to sneak notes in his book calling him "Voldemort's child" and such). He'd been excused from going to Care of Magical Creatures altogether because he couldn't make the walk out to Hagrid's hut without his chest spasming and hurting. And now this…

Draco's eyes burned from tiredness and dryness as he read the letter over again. "I'm imploring you, Mr. Malfoy, to seek further medical assistance for your son. I'm not an expert and I don't know what options you have, but something must be done to ease this boy's physical suffering." McGonagall had written. Draco set the letter down and put his head into his hands. The worst part was that he knew that while McGonagall was seeing his son's pain on the outside, he could also see the pain on the inside. Scorpius's letters home were brief, gloomy, and evading. Draco tried very hard to ask his son how he was feeling emotionally, or if there was any support he could give. He even encouraged Scorpius to speak with Madame Pomfrey about the things going on in his head. But Scorpius never truly gave his father any insight into what was happening. He evaded the questions by returning them—asking if his father was alright, if he needed anything. Scorpius spoke in his letters about Albus, about his high marks in his classes, about how he was trying to be a good student. But Draco just couldn't get any more out of him.

Because the truth was, Scorpius was in greater pain than he could've ever imagined. He could feel his body failing him. While other boys his age were talking about Quidditch and practicing and doing sports and music and things outdoors, he was needing to curl up in the commonroom and read a book, maybe near the window if it wasn't too dusty there. While the same boys were building muscle and roughhousing and growing stronger, Scorpius was having to pack and tightly bind a small papercut on his finger because once his skin tore his blood couldn't clot quick enough so he'd start bleeding uncontrollably. Boys in his year spent their Saturdays having snowball fights and sitting out by the lake, but Scorpius spent every Saturday tucked away in his bed usually running a fever and unable to stay awake for long. He was afraid. He was scared that if his father knew any of this, he'd go mad with worry and could end up hurting himself. He feared that his friendship with Albus would dwindle because of his inability to keep up. He was terrified he'd be thrown out of Hogwarts for being unable to participate as a student.

So as Scorpius lay in his bed in the hospital wing, his head and arm all bandaged up and the moonlight streaming through the window, his thoughts went dark once again with worry. Surely, his father would find out about this. He closed his eyes. How could it be possible to live every moment to fullest in a life with an expiration date, when every waking moment was filled with pain and difficulty? Something rustled beside him. That was strange—he was the only one here in the hospital wing. He heard it again. Suddenly, the mattress dipped and he felt a warm pressure against his leg. "Hey," a voice whispered. He gasped. Albus's face suddenly became visible out of thin air, but not the rest of his body. "A-Albus!" Scorpius whispered in shock. Albus quickly hushed him, looking around. "Quiet! I don't want to get caught for being out of bed past curfew!" he hissed. Scorpius sputtered with eyes widened. "W-Where…where's the…rest of you?"

"It's here—under the invisibility cloak."

"Invisibility cloak?"

"My dad gave it to James but he let me borrow it so I could come see you when we'd have more privacy."

"B-But…it's late."

"Yeah but I miss you. The dormitory isn't the same with the bed beside you empty. I've got no one to talk to. No one to share midnight snacks with. So I've come here—and look, I've brought Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans with me!"

Albus threw the cloak off and sat down on the bed closer to Scorpius. He opened the box of sweets. He held it out to his friend, but Scorpius looked away. "I'm not hungry," he murmured. Albus furrowed his brow. "What's wrong? Are you upset with me?"

"Of course not. I'm just…I don't know. I'm just in a mood."

"You've had quite a fall. I don't think I'd be feeling particularly gleeful after something like that either."

"I just…I can't _do_ anything. I can't even go to class anymore. My life is a mess, Albus. And it has no hope of ever getting any better."

"…What do you mean by that?"

"Look at me—I'm terminal. My life has an expiration date on it. I want for everything to be serene and romantic like in the books we read, where every day is a gift that brings joy and hope. But it isn't. It isn't like that. It sucks, Albus. It absolutely sucks. Every part of this."

"…I know, but you're doing a good job of—"

"Death isn't fair. It took my mum from me. It tried to take my dad from her. And now, it's taking me, but it won't hurry up and just get on with it."

Albus felt a lump come to his throat. He _never_ liked it when the topic of Scorpius's mortality came up. But it was clear that his friend needed to get all of this off his chest. He took Scorpius's hand and moved to lay down on the small bed with him. He sighed. Scorpius had hot tears streaming down his pale face as he looked up at the ceiling. They lay there in silence for a long while, holding hands, both trying to take comfort in each other's company. After quite some time, Scorpius sniffled. "I'll die without having done so much." he whimpered. "I'll never have gone to the Quidditch World Cup. I'll never have had a kiss. I'll never have been loved by another person. I'll never have seen Muggle London." Without even thinking, Albus leaned over and pressed his lips to Scorpius's delicate cheek. "There," he said. "One thing down." Scorpius blushed and closed his eyes. He squeezed his grip on Albus's hand a little tighter in a way to show his appreciation. Albus smiled and returned to facing up at the ceiling quietly. "You're mad if you think you're not loved, Scorpius." he said softly. "My mum thinks you're adorable from everything I tell her about you. Clearly your dad loves you so so much. And even deep down, _wayyyyyyyy _deep down, Rose loves you too." Scorpius heard the footsteps of Madame Pomfrey coming to check on his pulse rate again. Albus swiftly pulled the invisibility cloak over himself and lay very still beside his friend. There was no way he was leaving his side for anything at this point.

The next morning, Albus and Rose walked together to Herbology, slowly. Albus was giving her the sad update on everything Scorpius had told him previously. Rose was quiet for a lot of it—it was a tough thing to hear, that a close friend was giving up on the short life he was afforded. Albus sighed and shrugged. "There's just no way to help him." he said sadly. "There's literally nothing that can save his life." Rose thought for a moment, then suddenly her face lit up. "Yes there is," she said, the sharpness returning to her eyes. "The Muggle way. Remember what I'd researched last year? The Muggle way—giving him a new set of lungs!"

"Rose, it's incredibly dangerous. And besides, his parents already said no to that idea."

"His _mother_ said no, Albus. His father never gave an answer. And we all know his mother said no because she didn't want to put him through a risky procedure while she knew she was actively dying as well. Mrs. Malfoy only said no to the Muggle way because she knew that if she said yes and they went on with it, Mr. Malfoy might lose her and Scorpius at the same time."

Albus considered this. She might've had a point. "Ok, but even now. We can't just walk up to Mr. Malfoy and say, hey it'd be a great idea to try and save the only family member you have left by ripping him open and dragging out his insides and then shoving new ones back in—but he also might die so there's that."

"We'd set it all up before he even had the chance to think like that. My mum could help—I bet she could call the medical records forth from St. Mungo's and have them sent to a Muggle hospital that would do the procedure. She could make it look just like their medical records."

"And then what?"

"I read that he needs to be put on the list to await an available set of lungs. But with enough money, he can be advanced up the list and have a better chance of getting them sooner rather than later. Obviously his family has no problem with that."

"So what can we do now?"

"I'm going to write my mum. I'll explain it all to her and see what she can do. Then…we work on getting Scorpius Malfoy's life back to him."


	20. Chapter 20

Harry shuffled through the mess of paperwork on his desktop at the Ministry of Magic. Briefly, he patronized himself for not keeping better organization—like Hermione was always telling him to do. But he'd also seen Ron's office at the Weasley's Joke Shop, and it wasn't any better than his. So he didn't feel quite so bad after all. Trying to concentrate on the task at hand, finding a report he _swore_ he'd just had on the top of this pile a second ago, Harry wished he'd had an extra cup of caffeinated tea earlier that morning. When he heard the knock on his office door, he really wished he'd had something stronger to drink. "Yes?" he asked, a bit impatiently. When Hermione entered, he sighed. "I know, I know." he recited. "I've got to do something about this mess. Don't even start on it." Hermione said nothing but raised her eyebrow as if affirming that that was exactly what she was going to say. "I'm actually here to bother you about something else." she stated factually, holding out a piece of parchment to him. "I was hoping you could help me solve a mystery." Harry smirked at her. "Just like old times?" Hermione grinned back, but raised her eyebrows again and shook her head. "A little different, and far less dangerous. Though…same characters involved in the plot."

"Really. And who might these characters be?"

"A Potter, a Weasley, and a Malfoy."

Harry blew out a breath. "I've already submitted denials to three claims about Malfoy killing his wife on purpose. What more could anyone want?"

"Let me be more specific. This cast of Potters and Malfoys and Weasleys are our offspring."

"Oh. …Oh? What's the mystery?"

"I was hoping you could help me figure out why my daughter sent me an owl at nearly two in the morning last night, asking me to order all of Scorpius's Malfoys medical records to the Ministry, and then modify them to closely match the Muggle system, and then send them to a Muggle hospital, but 'into the hands of someone of our kind' so that Scorpius can seek better treatment and undergo this incredibly dangerous medical procedure that will either completely heal him or kill him instantly. Without telling Draco until it's all been arranged."

"…I'm lost."

"Rose wants Scorpius to get treated by Muggles to help his condition since magic isn't doing it. She's suggesting he undergoes transplant surgery."

"And what do my kids have to do with this?"

"She said Albus agreed this was a good idea and she mentioned that James shared the invisibility cloak so that Albus could sneak into the hospital wing to spend time with Scorpius."

"Oh come on, James. I told him not to let that out of his possession."

Hermione handed Harry the letter so he could scan over it. After a moment, he sighed and said, "Yep, James really did lend Albus the cloak." Hermione snatched the letter back and whapped Harry over the head with it. "This is a bigger issue than that stupid cloak." Harry sighed. He knew she was right. Rose had spent every school holiday so far complaining about Scorpius Malfoy—it seemed like the list of things she didn't like about him was endless. For her to be this concerned about someone she loathed definitely spoke volumes about the situation. "So what should we do?" he asked quietly. It wasn't that he was particularly ready to jump on the chance of helping Draco Malfoy—but he knew how important Scorpius was to him and to be able to possibly spare his life would mean so much to the man who'd been on a losing streak since day one. Hermione bit her lip. "I've requested the records from St. Mungo's on urgency and I've sent an owl to Mallory Applewhite, a witch and medical doctor at St. Bartholomew's Hospital in London." Harry blinked in surprise, letting out a slight chuckle. "Just like old times. Hermione's two steps ahead." The two shared a grin. "So now what? We just wait and see?" he went on.

"We need to speak with Draco and tell him about all this."

"Why 'we'?"

"Because obviously Albus and Scorpius are very close, and I think at this point Draco needs to see that he and his son have people that deeply care about their wellbeing and want to help."

"…Ok. Fine. But I'm sure Ron won't be very happy about it."

"I'll cook Ron sausages and dinner and he'll be fine."

Harry and Hermione waited a few days to get responses from the inquiries that had been sent out across England to the various medical entities. Once they'd received all 523 scrolls of medical records on Scorpius Malfoy and an agreement from Dr. Applewhite to take Scorpius on as her patient, the pair reached out to Draco and requested to meet with him on official ministry business. Shortly afterward, they found themselves (along with a very unhappy Ron) in the cold, dark sitting room of Malfoy Manor looking at the broken man that had once been their greatest rival. He'd become so reduced. He kept his eyes cast downward as if he didn't even feel worthy enough to meet their gaze. Though he did politely offer biscuits and tea. Ron accepted begrudgingly. "We hope we aren't disturbing you," Hermione began. Draco shook his head, trying to appear collected. "Not at all. If the ministry has any questions, I always appreciate them coming to me for answers instead of doing all that investigative work around me." he said.

"Well…we're actually not here about ministry business, per se. I mean it is official business, but it has more to do with…your son."

Draco's eyes flashed and suddenly he looked quite angry. "My son's paternity is as Malfoy as it gets. There isn't a drop of blood in him that's from Riddle or anyone else."

"N-No, no. It's nothing about that. We know those are just absurd rumors." Ron snorted, but got a quick elbow to the chest from his wife. "We know that things haven't been going so well with his health lately." she carried on.

"How would you…um, I'm sorry, how did you come across this?"

"Actually…Harry's son Albus is quite close friends with Scorpius. And since my daughter Rose, is his cousin, she naturally has begun to pick up on their friendship and sees him around frequently."

Draco's face seemed to soften slightly into a smile. "All he ever talks about at home is Albus Severus." he thoughtfully murmured, as if the memory of his son's happiness was enough to ease the burdens of his world. "How'd you get the idea to tag your kid with that one, Potter?" he threw in.

"Shut it you git, it's better than 'Scorpius Hyperion'." Ron lashed back with a mouthful of biscuits, some crumbs spilling out down his shirt. Two more elbows to the chest, one from Harry and one from Hermione.

"Haven't changed a bit have you, Weasley?" Draco replied with a playful smirk. Hermione instantly swatted Ron's hand down just before he could raise a particular finger to the blonde.

"Draco, our point is that the kids—our kids, all our kids—have come up with a plan to get Scorpius some help with his condition." she continued despite her husband's fidgeting. "They dreamed up the idea, and we set the gears into motion."

Draco seemed a bit more tense now. His brow furrowed, he scanned the three in front of him as if unsure if he should believe their extension of help. Harry leaned forward. "We're in this together, Draco." he said, knowing it would strike a chord with the lonely man. "We're willing to put everything aside for our kids. For your kid." Draco became pensive. His fingers twisted nervously at the buttons on his sleeves, his breathing and heartbeat quickened at the decision he was faced with. "Everything aside?" he asked, his voice cracking and breaking as tears couldn't help but fill his eyes. Harry nodded assuringly. "Always." he said. Ron wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "Not, like, _everything_." he muttered. Hermione stepped on his foot. Draco thought for a long time. While his two friends were engaged in a silent quarrel, Harry could see that this was a very big moment for Draco Malfoy, and an emotional one at that. Harry wondered when the last time was that anyone actually extended any kind of assistance to this man for anything. Perhaps it was Dumbledore, on top of the astronomy tower that fateful night. Ever since then, the world had kind of made a habit of trodding on Draco Malfoy even when he was down. Harry noticed Draco quickly swipe some tears away from his eyes with his hand. He sniffled softly. And nodded. "Alright," he whispered. "Let's hear what the new generation's Golden Trio has come up with."


	21. Chapter 21

Scorpius's third year at Hogwarts was anything but ordinary.

It began just before he actually even had a ticket to board the Hogwarts Express actually. His first visit to a Muggle doctor was confusing, extraordinary, and slightly painful. He went just before school began and was accompanied only by his father. He was under _strict_ instructions to not speak about any magic or potions whatsoever—he was aware that this Muggle doctor was a witch as well, but Draco firmly stated that he was to remain quiet and follow orders and let him do all the talking. Scorpius liked the doctor he met. She seemed very kind and patient. He enjoyed looking at a sparkling blue bracelet that dangled off her wrist and swirled nebulas in one of the charms—it was obvious that it was a magical artifact, but it looked commonplace enough that a Muggle wouldn't notice. It felt like his appointments would never end. She spent copious amounts time listening to his lungs, looking at his charts, talking to his father. He had to get glowing "pictures" taken of his chest so many times. A machine scribbled zigzags on a paper while connected to his back and ribcage. He was quite afraid, though he kept quiet about it. However, his father seemed to notice. He spent a lot of time holding Scorpius's hand or letting him lean against him whenever they sat in waiting chairs. By the time they left the large, cold building, it was almost always dark outside.

Scorpius went off to school shortly after his first appointments—though he was under strict restrictions. He was given a reduced load of courses, though he was taking the same ones as Albus. He went to classes for three and a half days out of the school week. Any time he wasn't in class, he had to either rest in his dormitory or the infirmary. Though it seemed like he was under constant medical observation, he still didn't feel any healthier. And yet, the year went by faster than any other. Scorpius spent his holidays being evaluated by the Muggle doctor, he watched his father send constant correspondence to a vast number of recipients, he tried to rest as much as he could. Scorpius was aware that he was being prepared for the dangerous treatment Rose spent so much time talking about—but he wasn't sure exactly when he'd be whisked away to have it done. From what he could understand, it could be a matter of days, months, or even years for a transplantable set of lungs to become available. And once they did, no time was to be lost. Draco had given a lot, _a lot_ of money to ensure that Scorpius would be first on the list to receive the soonest available organ donation. While he was grateful, Scorpius felt completely overwhelmed—how could he _possibly_ ever repay or thank his father for sacrificing so much to allow him a longer life? The weight and pressure sunk in on him more and more every day.

And if that wasn't enough, Scorpius was facing more bullying than ever. He often did not discuss the difficulties he was presented with at school because those problems seemed so absolutely insignificant compared to the fact that his own body was trying to kill him on a daily basis. To top things off, Scorpius also was beginning to have different thoughts about Albus. His best friend. The only person who could really understand him. Something stirred oddly in his chest whenever Albus would sit beside him just to talk, when he'd offer kind reassurance, when he'd tuck the blankets closer to Scorpius while he rested, when he put his head onto his shoulder, when he'd hold his hand so gently. Scorpius was certain that the things he was feeling all related to the new fear he had of dying sooner than expected. Though whatever these thoughts actually were, they only added to the stress he was battling. It felt like every other day he was being sent by Headmistress McGonagall to go speak with Professor Longbottom—he often acted as a guide and counselor to students facing difficult times in life. Headmistress encouraged Scorpius to be seen as a precautionary measure. She'd always tell him that it was alright to be scared, to be afraid. But that he needed to talk about it before it built up and ruined him. Scorpius often wondered if she pushed this concept so intensely because she'd once seen how stress and anxiety ruined his father.

So the entire school year fled by. Scorpius soon found himself on summer holiday, sitting in the hallway of Malfoy Manor, staring at the closed door just a few steps down from his own room. It was the door to the room in which his mother passed away. The small boy liked sitting here sometimes because the room smelled like lilies faintly, and it reminded him of his mother. He'd just recently begun taking "Muggle medicine" to prepare his body for when there'd be a transplant. The multicolored pills were often difficult to swallow without choking. And his father was very very anxious about him beginning Muggle medicine. He must've sent at least thirty owls to Dr. Applewhite with questions and concerns; Scorpius counted. And if the fact that it was Muggle medicine didn't frighten the two Malfoys enough, they'd been told by Dr. Applewhite that the pills Scorpius was taking might begin to interfere with the magical medical devices being used for his hearing. She advised that the spells to strengthen the hearing aids must be stopped to maximize the effect of the medication. Over the past few days of being home on summer holiday, Scorpius noticed that the amount that he was hearing had decreased already. Because of this, it was comforting to rely on smells and touch instead just like when he was a child. So sitting in front of the door that smelled of lilies wasn't just comforting to Scorpius. It was therapeutic.

He leaned against the wood of the door, taking slow deep breaths as he read a book he'd taken from the Malfoy library—one of his favorites; about the time that Harry Potter and his friends battled off a ferocious werewolf as dementors were closing in. He must've read it at least seven times now. But he couldn't help it. He loved the adventures he got to read about. He loved the idea that people out there had full and exciting lives that garnered more and more priceless stories by the day. He was beginning to accept that his life wasn't going to be like that. It was comforting to know that books allowed for him to feel like part of the adventure anyway and that they offered him kindness and helped him share emotions with characters. Dreamily, he turned the page on his worn hardcover.

Draco stood farther down the hallway with anguish in his heart as he looked upon his small, sickly son so desperate for some kind of bonding from somewhere. He felt incredibly guilty that Scorpius felt he could find comfort in the smell of his mother's hospice room, and that he only received excitement and pleasure from books. "Scorpius," Draco repeated. The boy didn't even flinch. He hadn't heard him. It didn't ease his heartbreak since the first time he tried to get his attention either. It was hard to accept that he was needing to allow for Scorpius to get worse just to try to make him better. Was it all going to be worth it? Robbing his son of a chance to just have a good comfortable last few years to risk giving him a full life expectancy? Stealing away his boy's ability to hear just as a normal child could so that he could take Muggle pills without an end date in the future? Was this all going to turn out alright? Or was it going to end in more pain, more loss, and more grief?

Draco looked down at the letter in his hands, debating whether or not he should even tell Scorpius that their plans were going to change a bit. It would definitely increase the boy's anxiety. Draco had been corresponding with Harry Potter for a few days about how the preparations were going for this master plan their kids had come up with. Harry had then actually offered have Scorpius and Draco live with them in a spare room at his house to not be alone, should anything happen after the surgery. At first, Draco did not like the idea. He wanted his child home after something so traumatic, because he was the only caregiver Scorpius needed. But Harry presented stronger arguments than Draco's heart could take. _This isn't something that's an everyday occurrence,_ Harry had written,_ and it's going to be hard on both of you. _Draco knew he was right. He knew that if he brought Scorpius home to the Manor alone, he'd go insane fretting over him. _We think it would be best for the two of you to have comfort, support, and help during a time that's so stressful. Ginny and I want to make sure you're both cared for—with meals, rest, and assistance._ Draco realized it would probably be very nice if he didn't have to worry about taking care of Scorpius constantly and then cooking for himself or tidying the house. _It's just as important for you to be healthy and strong for your son. And we know that you've really been through the ringer. Let someone finally help you, Draco. Don't be prideful when it comes to you and your son's overall health._ Damn. He always knew just where to drive the guilt wedge. Draco had written back agreeing to go stay with the Potters once Scorpius had had his surgery and was released from the Muggle hospital.

The letter he held in his hand was another response from Harry, detailing where they'd stay and when everything would be ready for them to come. Draco intended to show the letter to Scorpius purely for the last line: _Albus is bursting with excitement to have Scorpius come stay with us. _He figured it might cheer his son up a bit. Quietly he approached his son and knelt down beside him on the floor. The movement caught Scorpius's eye. He looked up from his book and gave his father one of his sweet heartbreaking smiles. Draco handed the letter over. "Give this a read," he motioned in sign language, "and tell me what you think of the idea." It didn't take long for Scorpius's whole face to light up at reading the news. He flapped his hands eagerly and nodded. "Yes, dad!" he said aloud. He reread the letter in excitement. Draco felt a smile tug at his lips despite the raging storm of dark emotions he was feeling inside. His boy was so pure, so innocent, so perfect…

A piercing shriek shattered the tender moment, followed by a crash and raining glass shards. Though Scorpius only heard a muted form of the ruckus, he could tell it was frightening by the way his father leapt up and grabbed his wand, pointing it over the staircase railing and looking down, ready to fight. Another screech. Draco's heart pounded—he feared a vengeful home intruder more than anything since the war. Suddenly a large scruffy owl swooped in front of him, still screaming. It danced like crazy on the railing, shaking its foot desperately. A letter was attached. Draco reached out to untie the letter and was nipped at desperately by the squawking bird. "Alright, alright, I'm hurrying." Draco muttered, opening the envelope and trying to ignore that the bird was now staring him down with wide urgent eyes.

Then it all made sense.

The letter was from Dr. Applewhite. It simply stated in red ink:

_Healthy 14-year-old male car crash victim, passed away an hour ago in hospital. An organ donor. Perfect biochemical match for Scorpius. Apparate here with him immediately. We're ready to operate._


	22. Chapter 22

Albus pushed on the large glass doors and desperately stumbled into the big, cold hospital building full of bustling people as his father rushed behind him. "Albus!" Harry panted. But the boy didn't stop. He ran straight towards the big desk that read 'Information' across it and slammed his hands down on the counter. "Malfoy," he gasped breathlessly. "Scorpius Malfoy. About to get new lungs. We need to find him. Where is he? What room?" He gulped air—he could only imagine that Scorpius felt this winded just from simply walking from potions to herbology. But that was going to be no more. He was going to be well after this. Harry caught up to Albus and also took big breaths. "Albus!" he said scoldingly. He turned to the bewildered woman sitting at the desk. "I'm sorry. Can you um, can you tell us what room Scorpius Malfoy is in?" The woman warily typed onto her computer and raised an eyebrow. "Date of birth?" she asked dryly. Harry thought quickly—he knew Draco must've mentioned the boy's date of birth at some point in their conversations. But he didn't remember. Shoot. What was it? "August 3rd, 2006!" Albus cried reflexively. "He was supposed to be born on October 15th but he came early," Harry put a hand on his shoulder to send the message to his son to stop sharing so much information. The woman typed a bit more, then wrote a number down on a piece of paper. "Pediatric pre-op, floor seven, room 38." she stated and pointed at the elevators. Immediately, Albus took off without another word. Harry rolled his eyes—he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep up with his son's bolting around.

As soon as Draco sent the screaming urgent owl that Scorpius was going in for treatment, Harry told Ginny to begin preparing the home for their guests. However, the moment Albus overheard, he broke into a full-on tantrum of screaming and crying until Harry agreed to take him to the hospital to see his best friend before he went under the knife. Albus was literally bouncing in the elevator as it lifted them to their desired floor. "Albus, you need to calm down." Harry reminded. "If you run into his room all upset and bothered, you're going to rile him up and he needs all the rest he can get." It was as if he'd said nothing at all though, because the moment the doors opened, Albus burst out and ran down the hallway. Harry apologized to every nurse and doctor that his son nearly knocked over in his path.

At the door of room 38, they could see through the window that Draco was at the bedside with his back to the window. Albus reached for the handle but Harry grasped his hand. "Hold on," he whispered. He peered through the window a little closer and saw Draco gently stroking some barely visible white-blonde hair. It looked like he was rocking gently. He could tell the man was talking in a soft voice just by the way his head moved sometimes. "Give them a little more privacy." he whispered to Albus, who impatiently rolled his eyes. "I need to see him, dad. You don't understand." Harry knelt down and put his hands on his son's shoulders. "I do understand, Albus. But as worried as you are about Scorpius, his dad is ten thousand times worse. He adores that boy with all of his heart."

"_I_ adore that boy with all of my heart too, dad!" Albus hissed. Harry looked at him, a bit confused, but didn't have time to ask any questions before a nurse excused herself to get to the door and enter the room holding a syringe in her hand. Without another word, Albus ducked in the room as well.

Scorpius looked miserable. Just miserable. No other word for it. He was lying in a bed all propped up with several pillows. He had so many beeping machines and wires and tubes running in and out of his skin all over the place. He had looping tubes in front of his nostrils that were hissing with oxygen. However, his eyes lit up when he saw Albus come in. The two boys immediately embraced—to Albus, it felt like he was hugging a frail baby bird. He moved his hand to rub Scorpius's back. Tears filled his eyes upon the realization that he could literally feel bones under that pale skin and flimsy hospital gown. "Scorpius…." he whispered. He looked down at the boy's hand and noticed that the nurse was attaching the syringe to a tube sticking out of his skin. It appeared she was drawing blood from the line. "Does it hurt?" he asked his friend. Draco softly cleared his throat. "Albus, Scorpius isn't really able to hear quite well at this point." he advised without giving too much away to the Muggle audience in the room. Albus looked up at the nurse expectantly, hoping she'd give an answer to his question. She shook her head and smiled. "He doesn't feel a thing this way." she assured. Relieved, Albus sat on the bed beside Scorpius and reached for his other hand. The boy looked so tired, so sick as he laid there. Even though he knew he was going to hopefully improve, it still hurt to see him in such a state.

Draco rose and stood beside Harry. "Thank you for coming," he said softly. "You didn't have to." Harry sighed and let out a chuckle. "I think if I didn't, Albus would've killed me. Honestly, I never thought a fourteen-year-old boy could pitch a tantrum even scarier than a three-year-old. He was mad!" It looked like Draco was trying to smile in response, but he wasn't quite able to. Harry guessed that maybe he was too worried, or perhaps he didn't understand because Scorpius was always so mild-mannered and quiet. A silence passed as the pair watched their sons interact. It took a great deal of time before Draco finally spoke in a broken whisper. "I'm so scared." There was something about that soft admission from a man who'd lost everything and continued to lose more that tugged at Harry's heartstrings. He awkwardly put a hand on the shaking shoulder beside him. Draco looked over with tears in his eyes. "What if I lose him?" Harry wasn't sure how to answer something like that, but he knew the feeling. He too had lost many of the people he cared about. Having that fear as a burden was more than any person should have to bear. "Draco," he replied gently, tightening his grip. "Whatever happens, he has a strong, loving parent on either side of the Veil. If he makes it out alright, he has you to care for him. If he joins his mother, you know she'll protect and love him for all eternity until you meet them too." Draco wiped away two big tears that fell from his eye.

Albus looked up at the monitor that was showing Scorpius's pulse rate. He admired the spikes and dips of the rhythmical patterns the boy's heart was making, thinking about all the times he'd felt that same heartbeat while he rubbed his back as he threw up or checked to make sure he was alright while napping. One time, he'd even fallen asleep on Albus's lap and he could feel that steady, peaceful beat. "Scorpius," he whispered. More nurses were coming into the room and were talking to the parents. "You are so loved," Albus choked up. The silver eyes that were studying him so closely also became misty, and Albus wondered if somehow he'd figured out what he'd just said. A nurse tapped Albus's shoulder. "We've got to get him to the operating room," she advised. Albus leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss onto Scorpius's cold alabaster cheek. He slipped off the bed and returned to his still muddled father in the corner. "I'm going to walk down with him," Draco said to the team firmly, trying to maintain his composure. Harry gave him a nod. He'd seen this side of Draco hundreds of times before but this time it was in a new context; he would protect and defend his son, his family, no matter what was necessary. The bed was beginning to roll out of the room, taking a frail and shivering boy with it. Draco straightened. His determination was back. He would either see Scorpius into the arms of his mother in a dignified way, or he would welcome him out of the operating room and continue to fight the world for him.

As soon as Draco, the nurses, and little Scorpius left the room, Albus let out a gasp of air and a heartbreaking sob. "I hate Rose!" he shouted, kicking his sneaker against the wall. "I hate her for even bringing this up!" Harry quickly grabbed his shoulders and attempted to calm his son. "You don't understand, dad!" Albus shouted again. "You'll never understand what I'm feeling!" Harry knelt down to be on his level. "Albus, I've lost so many people in my life—"

"But everyone that you lost died quickly! A killing curse, an accident—you've never had someone slowly ripped away from you for years because of a sickness!" Albus argued.

"Listen to me, loss is loss. Grief isn't the same for everyone but you don't have anything to grieve over yet. Scorpius is going to get through this. He's going to be alright. Why are you trying to sort out the worst when there's a chance he'll come out of this even better than before?"

Albus sniffled and scrubbed at his now tearstained face. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked away from his father. "I don't like life without him."

Harry bit his lip and drew a slow breath in. He knew Albus was really struggling. He'd never seen him this upset before—not even when James teased him about being a Slytherin. He reached out again and stroked Albus's arm. "Is there something you're afraid to tell me?" he began gently. But Albus pulled his arm away and wiped his face again. "No." he stated flatly. Perhaps now wasn't the time for a conversation like this. Harry nodded, then rose and pulled his son into a hug. "He's going to be alright," he assured into his son's nearly identical black hair. "He's got the best of the Muggle world and the Wizarding world caring for him. He's got the best family he can be in for something as complicated as this. And he's got the best _friend_ he could ask for to support him." He felt Albus draw a deep breath in and release it in a sigh. He patted his shoulder. "Come on, let's go home and help Mum get the house ready for when Scorpius and his dad stay with us." Albus nodded. He walked with his dad out of the small empty room and looked longingly down the cold hallway already filled with bustling doctors and nurses and family members and patients. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This was going to be ok. It was going to be ok. Scorpius made it this far in life without dying so far, and that was before he had teams of medical professionals from two worlds keeping him alive. As Albus turned to head toward the elevators, he noticed a young woman in a white coat was staring at him. He met her eyes briefly, but returned them when he noticed her nod at him. "He's in good hands," she said across the hallway. "We'll be right there if there's any need for an _episkey_." The woman looked up at Harry and gave a quick wink. Confused, Albus studied her a little harder. His eyes fell upon a quite magical swirling nebula bracelet on her right wrist—between that and her discreet reference to a healing spell, he suddenly understood. This was Scorpius's doctor, promising that she'd do anything and everything in her Muggle medical training _and_ her magic healer training to keep Scorpius alive and well. He let out a breath. Scorpius was in good hands.


	23. Chapter 23

Twelve days.

Scorpius spent twelve days in the intensive care unit after his twenty-six hour long transplant surgery. For seven of those days, he was comatose and under the influence of a lot of drugs in his fragile state. He was on a mechanical breathing machine, and had not yet respirated on his own. Draco sat beside him every moment of every day. Even when he wasn't conscious. He never went home and only left bedside when the nurses were doing shift change and required all family to leave the unit. He would use freshening charms on himself while locked in the bathroom so that he wouldn't waste precious time with his son. And he sent owls from the hospital heliopad (whatever that was) to the Potters and to his mother. He always got answers from Harry—he only received one reply from Narcissa. He wasn't surprised. Shortly before Astoria's passing, his mother and father had begun speaking again. It was as if Lucius put his charm on her once again and persuaded her to follow and serve him, because she went back to living with him and talked to Draco and Scorpius less. Draco suspected Lucius was back to brainwashing her with how tainted Scorpius's blood was by a mother who didn't come from one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. However, that was the least of Draco's worries.

Scorpius had not yet taken a breath of his own with his new set of lungs. This was particularly concerning for the doctors involved because he was at a higher risk of contracting pneumonia—and also, if his new lungs had a problem, it would be better to find out sooner rather than later. Scorpius was respirating through a long intubation that was inflating and deflating his lungs by machine. To be completely honest, it was extremely disturbing to Draco. He hated having to hear the hiss and release of some artificial pump keeping his son alive. He held his hand constantly and kept him company. He didn't know if Scorpius was aware he was there, but he hoped it would help. Once Scorpius was awake, he couldn't speak. But he sent grateful messages with his eyes to his father and weakly squeezed back on the hand that so tenderly held him.

The day that the doctors did remove the breathing tube, Draco was a nervous wreck. He was told ahead of time by Dr. Applewhite that Scorpius was going to struggle with his first breaths because his new lungs needed to synchronize with the rest of his body. She warned him that it was not going to be pretty as soon as the tube came out of his throat.

Major understatement.

As soon as that long sticky white tube was pulled out of Scorpius, he coughed raggedly, but couldn't breathe in. His mouth gaped, his eyes bugged, his whole body shook. He desperately was trying to take in air—but his new lungs were socked together. Draco absolutely panicked at the sight of his son retching and turning blue. "Help him!" he shouted at Dr. Applewhite. "Put the tube back in! He can't breathe!" But the woman just remained looking at the choking boy, offering a simple, "It doesn't work that way, Mr. Malfoy. He'll be alright." Draco felt like he was dripping with sweat. He was going to see his child die right in front of him and no one was doing anything about it! He was sure of it. His heart had never beat faster in his life. "_Help him!_" he screamed. Suddenly, he heard a horrible suctioning sound and a deathly rattling gasp. Scorpius was heaving, but drawing in ragged gulps of air and shaking. "He's seizing. Put him on oxygen and increase the Topiramate drip. Push 4cc's of Diazepam." Dr. Applewhite commanded the nurses. It all sounded muddled and confusing to Draco, whose ears were ringing from his spike in blood pressure. But he didn't care. As long as Scorpius was breathing.

The boy was trembling a bit and he had a blank distant stare but he was desperately intaking the oxygen from the mask they'd put over his face. It looked like his body was physically hungry for air. Draco realized he was squeezing his hand probably a little too tightly. He relaxed his grip and watched as Scorpius's breathing evened and his eyelids became droopy. The medication was tightening its grip on his consciousness. Though the scare had sent adrenaline rushing through Draco's veins and he felt clammy and shaky, he had never felt more proud of his little son. He had literally defied the odds. He was breathing on his own. He'd survived. He was persisting.

A few days later, Draco was standing outside the door of Scorpius's hospital room as he waited for a nurse to change the dressing on the suture that ran across the length of his abdomen. As he paced in anticipation to get back into the room, he heard a voice call out from down the hall. "Mr. Malfoy?" Draco was taken aback to see Albus Potter hurrying to meet him. "A-Albus?" he asked, silently wondering if he should call the son of the Chosen One by his first name or by 'Mr. Potter'. Albus joined him in front of the door. "I just…" he began. "I just really needed to see you guys." Draco couldn't quite tell if Albus's face was flushed because he'd bustled his way to the tenth floor so quickly or if it was tearstained. He decided not to ask. "He's doing well," he offered softly, hoping that it would cheer the boy up a bit. "He's tolerating the oxygen and he's really doing better at sitting up on his own. They're changing his dressing now." Albus gave a nod and swallowed hard. It was obvious he was internally upset over something. Draco paused for a bit. He was never good at things like this. Not even with his own son. "A-And how are you?" he asked gingerly. Albus bit his lip. After only a few seconds, an eruption of tears broke out on his face. "My dad and I had yet another fight because he thinks I'm becoming 'depressed' because I'm spending too much time thinking about Scorpius, and he said it would be better if I just left him alone to heal, and he told me that coming to visit Scorpius at the hospital only makes it harder on myself and on him so I should just leave him alone until things become more stable but I can't because Scorpius is always on my mind and my dad is just trying to keep me away from him so I don't get depressed, but it isn't Scorpius that makes me depressed, it's _him_ and I just _hate every moment of everything_." he sobbed. Apparently there was a lot more going on than Draco expected. He reached out and placed a hand on Albus's shoulder. There was another awkward silence as Draco hurriedly searched for the right things to say, but he didn't get the chance. The nurse stuck her head out the door of Scorpius's room and called for him. "Mr. Malfoy? We're actually clear to take the chest tube out now. Doctor just put in the orders. Would you please come in and hold his hand?" The man hesitantly looked down at the boy who was swiping tears away from his face. "I think he'd be happier to have you there too." he murmured. Albus smiled.

Scorpius's whole face again lit up when he saw Albus. He apparently hadn't been doing well with eating, so they had to guide a small thin tube through his nostril all the way down into his stomach. He definitely tried to hide it. He signed to Albus not to look at it and kept his face turned to the side. But though he tried to sign back, Albus wasn't completely fluent in sign language yet. He tried his best to explain that he didn't mind it—that he thought it made Scorpius look even cooler. Quickly, he checked to be sure that Draco and the nurses were still talking and not paying attention before he leaned over, turned Scorpius's face so that he was looking at the tube, and placed a gentle kiss on that same cheek. Scorpius blushed fiercely. He definitely understood what Albus was trying to say.

The nurses came around the bed and had Scorpius lean forward slightly so they could undo his hospital gown. Watching closely, Albus let out an insuppressible gasp—there was a knut-sized tube sticking right out of Scorpius's skin! "Oh my god!" he cried out. "What in the bloody hell is that?" One of the nurses pointed at a box on the floor. "It's common for patients who have had invasive surgeries on their chest to have one of these. It sucks out all the fluid and debris and prevents them from getting a condition called pneumothorax." she explained, but it was falling on deaf ears. Albus wasn't interested in the physiology lesson. He just wanted to know how on _earth_ they were going to get that out. The nurses had Scorpius sit forward on the bed and hold Draco's hands with both of his. But instead, he held one of his father's and one of Albus's. A nurse signed to the boy as the other spoke aloud. "Take a deep breath in and hold it, and don't let it out no matter what, alright?" Albus was confused—what in the world did he have to hold his breath for? Scorpius watched his father with terrified silver eyes. The nurse began to count down. To Albus's horror, one of the nurses grabbed the tube that was imbedded in his back and yanked on it hard. Scorpius's face twisted into sheer pain, his head snapped back, and his spine arched.

Thud.

Draco suddenly didn't see Albus beside him anymore. He looked down reflexively and saw that the boy had promptly fainted at the very sight of the removal of the tube. Just before he could ask if he was alright and as the nurses were cooing that Scorpius was doing a great job as they bandaged up the hole, he was then horrified to hear a raspy, shrieking wail coming from his little son. Scorpius was screaming. Screaming tears. His face was pure pain—Draco was internally numbed at the thought of it looking just like his son had been hit by a Cruciatus Curse. His ears rang. Scorpius continued his wailing and gasping for air. "D-Daaaa….ddy!" he screeched. Tears were flooding down his face in waves. "Daaaaaaddddyyyy! I-I w-want _to go hoooooome!_" Draco was hit hard. His little boy couldn't even hear what he was screaming, but yet those had to be the first words he ever uttered with his new lungs. This was bad. The nurses were desperately trying to appease him, but weren't sure how to help a young teenager who was clearly so terrified and in pain that he'd reached a breaking point. A few of the nurses were also reviving a fainted Albus. Draco quickly gathered Scorpius into his arms and held him close the moment the bandages were secure. He let the boy cry and cry and cry. This wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to do this to him. How could he have ever thought this was a good idea? He wasn't the one who had to go through this excruciating pain—instead he put Scorpius through it, all for a slight chance that he'd end up with a happier, healthier life. Guilt stabbed at Draco every time Scorpius sucked in a rattling, wheezy gasp.

As soon as Albus regained himself with lessened dizziness, he sprang up from the floor and jumped onto the bed beside his best friend. He too put his arms around the sobbing boy. As he and Draco sat there holding the frail patient that meant so much to both of them, Scorpius began to reduce his panicked fit to sniffles and stridor. He kept clutching his father's hands desperately. But he was leaning his head onto Albus's shoulder. Albus gently rubbed the boy's arm, smoothed his hair, wiped away some of the tears and mucus on his face. Draco admired for a moment how tender and gentle he was being with his son. And finally, he thought of something to say in regards to Albus's earlier emotional breakdown outside of the room. "Your dad's wrong," he said softly. "I think you and Scorpius are the best thing for each other. You relax with his presence, he calms with yours." Albus gave a weak smile. He was relieved that finally someone understood what he felt when Scorpius was around—relief. His best friend was someone that could read him and give him what he emotionally needed for support in good times and bad. It wasn't anything deeper. It wasn't anything less. It was like their minds were made for each other—they knew exactly how to support one another at all times and that's why they were friends. "I-I'm romantically in love with him," Albus stammered awkwardly. Draco tried to keep a stagnant demeanor. "Did your dad suspect that too?"

"He confronted me about it. Asked if I had romantic feelings about Scorpius. I said I didn't have romantic feelings about anyone. It just made me really angry."

"Why would it make you angry?"

"Because…it just felt like my dad was asking if I was showing this much concern for Scorpius because I wanted something like…a relationship. Like to…get in his pants."

Draco's eyes slightly widened at that statement, though he did somewhat understand what Albus was saying. It was just in a teenager lingo he'd apparently grown out of. "Like you were expecting something in return," he clarified awkwardly. Albus nodded. Trembling, Scorpius leaned his head into the crook of Albus's neck as a grimace of pain made its way across his face. Draco imagined he couldn't be feeling very pleasant after having a tube literally ripped out of his body. He eased his son back down against his pillows slowly, signing to him that he wanted him to rest. Albus helped settle him. But before he could get up, Draco caught his attention with just a few words. "Stay with him there," he pleaded, tears in his eyes. "Whatever it is that you two have…it means the world to him. He needs that right now." Albus pushed the limp blonde hair off of Scorpius's forehead gently. "I'm here," he whispered. "I'll be right here for you _always_."

Albus told himself that the reason why he got happy butterflies in his stomach when he looked at his best friend was that he was relieved that the one true person who understood him was getting the chance to be with him longer.

As Scorpius looked up at Albus from his reclined position in his bed, he wondered if that pulse monitor was showing that his heart was skipping beats as he gazed into his best friend's kind, soulful, _perfect_ eyes.


	24. Chapter 24

Discharge day from the Muggle hospital was a day that Draco anticipated and dreaded at the same time.

It meant that he and Scorpius were free to leave the confines of the little room on the tenth floor of the pediatric inpatient ward and go home to stay with the Potters while Scorpius recovered. He was leaving with strict instructions from the doctors. He basically needed to stay bedbound for the first few weeks, avoid physical activity, and keep a tank of oxygen running at all times since his lungs weren't ready to handle respirating completely unassisted. Dr. Applewhite made sure Scorpius had the Muggle medicine that he needed, but she also supplied Draco with some potions that would ease the boy's pain, help him sleep, and open his airways. He felt lucky to have the best of both worlds. Though he needed to be responsible for monitoring Scorpius at all times for any change in breathing or heartbeat or a rise in his body temperature. It was going to be constant vigilance. Draco was already exhausted. But he was ready.

Scorpius arrived at the Potter home with his father pushing him in his wheelchair. He was still getting used to having those oxygen tubes in his nose all the time, and that stupid stupid ugly feeding tube he had to keep in since apparently he was seen as being "dangerously underweight". He'd never been here. He had only imagined what it would look like from everything Albus had told him. Thankfully, his father had been allowed to use the charm on his hearing aids finally and he was able to hear the birds singing around the home and the soft summer breeze. The front door opened to reveal several smiling faces. Ginny Potter, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger-Weasley, and Ron Weasley were there to offer welcome. Hermione, the Minister of Magic. Wow. The brave Ron Weasley. And Harry Potter himself. Scorpius's childhood heroes. All there to meet him. Hermione bent down and shook his frail little hand. "You are so brave, Scorpius." she said kindly, some tears in her eyes. "It's an honor to meet you." The blonde boy trembled a bit, unsure of what to say. How could he respond to something like that, _from_ someone like that? Harry and Hermione also shook his father's hand. Ron rolled his eyes and gave a half-smile, then also greeted Draco in the same way.

Albus burst past the adults, running straight for his friend and wrapping him in a big hug. "So good to have you back." he sighed. Scorpius felt nothing less than pure relief as he was held by him—finally, things may be getting back to normal. "Come inside," he heard Ginny urge to them. "We've got your room all fixed up for you both." Harry reached out and offered to push the wheelchair as they followed the group into the house's foyer. Before they caught up, Albus reached out and tugged on Draco's sleeve quickly. "Mr. Malfoy?" he whispered. Draco stopped. Albus looked around to make sure they were out of earshot. "Can you…just forget about what I said the other day? About…being in love with your son? I'm just…I don't know what I was thinking. I'm still…trying to sort everything out." Draco offered a gentle smile and nod. "Of course, Albus." he replied respectfully. Deep in his heart he knew that Albus could question and 'sort it out' as much as he wanted, but there was clearly a deep-seated affection in him for Scorpius Malfoy that he wouldn't ever be able to shake. Draco couldn't particularly say that it was something he wanted to deal with right now with his son, but he could tell just by the way the pair looked at each other that eventually some curiosity was going to begin to bloom.

Draco was quite surprised with how spacious and lovely the Potter home was. Ginny was clearly the master decorator of the house. The room they were staying in was comforting, warm. Ginny pointed at the large bed against the wall. "Draco, I wasn't sure what the release instructions were going to be for Scorpius, but if you want separate beds for each of you, I know a spell that can make it happen. Trust me, we've been using it on James and Albus's beds for years." Draco studied the room and glanced down at his tiny son who was eagerly taking everything in. "One bed is just fine," he answered. "I need to be close in the night to be sure he has normal sleep breathing." It was true, but also it might be nice to finally just have some time to lie next to his little miracle son and appreciate the fact that he was still alive to be held and hugged. There had been so many close calls.

Ron had been talking with Scorpius as they entered the room. Albus quickly took over though and decided to take the boy to show him his own room which he shared with James. The adults followed Ginny, ever the hostess, into the kitchen. She poured out some tea for the five of them and nestled them around the table. Draco held his teacup in his hands gingerly—afraid his very presence would shatter it to pieces. It felt so strange to be here in this home, with these people. He tried to push those anxious and dreadful thoughts away before it became obvious that he was feeling quite panicked about being here—

"Malfoy, I was talking to your kid earlier," Ron broke into his train of thought. "And I've got to say. For the slimy git you were at his age…you raised a nice boy." Draco heard Hermione audibly snort and roll her eyes in exasperation. Though he knew this was just Ron being Ron, it slightly unnerved him that that memory of his horridness still existed so many years later. He pretended to stir his tea. "Honestly though—for just starting fourth year, Scorpius is a lot better than you were. And your dad hadn't even been thrown into Azkaban yet." Ron went on, not really realizing the weight of what he was saying. Ginny now seemed upset. "Why are you so rude?" she hissed across the table. Draco's ears were ringing as he panicked internally. He just wished there was a way to erase himself from all of earth's history, or go back in time and start completely over.

His hands trembled fiercely as the anxiety in him mounted. He definitely did not want to stay with the Potters if his presence was going to bring back all of these terrible memories for them. Here they were being so kind, and yet he'd bee merciless to them in school. His face flushed—it felt like he was going to faint. The voices around him were muffled and strangled and strange. "Mate, I didn't mean for it to sound so harsh." he heard Ron say. He could feel someone's hand was on his shoulder but he had no idea whose. Calm down, calm down. Draco rose carefully. "I-I'm just going to go get a bit of air." he stammered.

Before he knew it, he was sitting on the front step alone, squeezing his eyes closed and willing the tears away. After a few moments of deep breaths and affirmations, Draco felt someone sit beside him. "I'm sorry about him," he heard a female voice say. It was Hermione. "Clearly he hasn't matured much since our school days." Draco shook his head and avoided eye contact. "Oh, no, it's fine. It's all fine. I'm not upset. I-I think I just…got a bit overwhelmed. With all the changes, you know? It's been a big day—"

"It's ok to say that what that idiot blubbered hurt you. We know that wasn't the real you, Draco. I think…that's what a lot of people would never understand about you. You were overlooked, misunderstood. People assumed you to be a certain way because of your name and your family and you felt pressured to act that way to meet their expectations."

"I was a stupid teenager, Hermione. I didn't think about it that hard."

"I know you may not have _thought_ it, but that doesn't mean that's not what your psyche interpreted."

"I shouldn't be here."

"Staying here at Harry's?"

"Staying here. Being alive. All of it. I just…I'm…just a waste. I've got absolutely nothing to be proud of, except for Scorpius."

"…Don't say that. We all leave our mark on everyone we meet in different ways—"

"Do you still have it?"

"Have what?"

"The mark that was left on you because of me? From my aunt?"

Hermione rolled up her sleeve on her arm, where a barely visible scar bore the word "mudblood" into her skin. "I don't even notice it anymore." she assured him. "And yours?" Draco too rolled up his sleeve, bearing a gray outline of a snake and skull slashed by wild lines. Hermione frowned. "Why…does it look like that?" she asked carefully. Draco faced away again. "I was embarrassed to have that Mark after the war. I didn't want it. I never did. I was forced to take it to protect my mother and maybe make my father proud for that. So once it was all over…I tried…getting rid of it." Hermione didn't need any further explanation. The thought of Draco slicing at his skin to try to cut out that mistake was proof enough to her that he really was a changed man with horrible circumstances. A silence fell between them. Hermione waited several minutes before speaking again to give the grieving, aching, self-loathing man beside her time to collect himself. "Don't think we all don't know that, Draco." she said quietly. "That's why you're here. Hindsight is 20/20. If we knew then, back in school, what we know now about you…things may have been very very different." Draco scrubbed at his face with his hand to erase the tears cascading from his eyes. If only he'd had friends like the Golden Trio back then. His life may have been different. He may have been on the right side of things. He may have had a choice. Hermione patted his shoulder. "So let's start that now," she continued softly. "From here on out. But you need to trust that we're going to forget the past, and you also need to let go of that self-blame too. Alright?"

Draco nodded, feeling so child-like. He internally felt very very glad that his son was able to become friends with the children of these kind and brave people. It was all he'd wanted as a boy. Now at least he could give it to his son. They stood up together and Hermione shook his hand. "When we go through that door," she reminded him as they made to reenter the Potter home, "everything's pushed aside. On our end, on your end. Deal?" Draco nodded. They stepped inside.

As Draco made to sit back down at the table, he heard the sound of Albus and Scorpius laughing hysterically about something down the hallway. He felt the warm cup of tea Ginny had charmed in his absence to stay hot for him until he returned. He saw Harry smiling at him comfortingly. He noticed that someone had put a plate of biscuits in front of Ron to keep him from getting hangry. And suddenly, he realized. At this moment, for about the first time in his life…

All was well.


	25. Chapter 25

Harry stretched as he walked into the kitchen the next morning, smiling at Ginny as she prepared some toast. "Good morning, love." he murmured, leaning in to give her a kiss. She echoed his greeting and gave a warm grin as she handed him his cup of tea. "Is James awake?" Harry asked as he seated himself. The kids were never really ones to sleep in, especially on summer holiday. There was too much for them to do and they didn't want to waste time sleeping. Ginny shook her head. "He and Lily are up. Albus is still asleep." she answered after a sip of her own tea. "And our guests?" Harry asked. Ginny thought for a moment. "I haven't seen or heard either of them yet today." Harry figured that it was still pretty early for the pair to be awake after they'd been in the hospital for so long. However, as the hours went by and he still hadn't seen them, he decided that he should probably check and be sure that they were doing alright. It was going to be nearing noon.

Harry quietly opened the door to the guest bedroom. Draco was lying halfway on his side with his long hair loose and undone, his eyes still closed, his breathing steady. Against the dark fabric of Draco's shirt was a ball of messy blonde hair and pale skin snuggled up to his father and buried under the blankets. From what he could see, those eyes were closed too. It was obvious that Draco had been up at some point that morning but gone back to bed. Scorpius's bag for his feeding tube had been changed to a full one, and there was a notebook and quill lying beside them. Harry couldn't imagine how exhausted they must've been. After spending nearly a month in a Muggle hospital under stressful conditions, it was almost guaranteed that neither of the Malfoys got a full, restful night's sleep ever. Harry softly went to close the door again. As he stepped back, something brushed against his foot, causing him to jump reflexively and gasp. Albus was looking through the crack of the door as well, but had snuck by his father by kneeling on the floor to see in. "Albus Severus!" Harry hissed. "What in the bloody hell?!" Albus stood up and brushed off his pants. "I was making sure he was alright!" he whispered fervently. "And you've given me a heart attack in the process!" Harry retorted, taking his arm and leading him out of the hallway.

Albus sighed and put his hands into his pockets. "There you go, now you're getting moody again. Because of Scorpius." Harry said, feeling an argument coming. Albus rolled his eyes. "You don't understand anything, Dad."

"I'm tired of having that be your excuse when what I'm saying is perfectly clear—you've entangled yourself into that boy's life too much, and now you're beginning to get all worked up when you think about him. It's very controlling behavior, Albus."

"I'm not being controlling of him."

"Having a friend constantly on your mind and imagining every bad scenario they could run into if you're not _there_ to _protect_ them is irrational and obsessive. You can't save Scorpius from his health. You don't need to be there every moment of every day to protect him from something you haven't any control over."

Albus bit his lip to keep from firing back at his father. This was the age-old fight between them. His father just didn't understand that Scorpius had helped him through the emotional maze of school countless times—he felt deeply obliged to do the same for him as he struggled with his health. Albus turned and stalked away from the confrontation to avoid saying something he'd regret later. Harry let out a frustrated sigh and took off in the opposite direction. Sometimes it felt like arguing with his youngest son was like talking to a brick wall.

As he entered the sitting room, he heard Lily's giggling and James whooping loudly. Puzzled, he followed the noise. Ginny, James, Lily, and Teddy Lupin were all embracing and greeting one another. Harry grinned and shook his godson's hand. "I didn't expect you," he said, his handshake breaking off when Lily clung to Teddy's arm so she could swing from it. "I got a day off of work and wanted to come by. I heard through the grapevine that my cousin's here? With my second-cousin? How did his muggle operation go?" the young man asked.

"Yeah, the Malfoys. They're here. Scorpius really did well and he's recuperating now. Have you…have you ever met him before?" Harry asked, unsure if both Teddy and Draco knew how close in blood relation they actually were.

"I've never met Scorpius. I met Draco once. When his wife died, I went to the gravesite and he happened to be there alone. I expressed my condolences but he seemed like really…like he wanted to be alone. But Narcissa wrote me a while ago about the whole thing that was going on with his son, and of course, the herbologist in me became curious."

"How's your medicinal herbology going, by the way? Come up with anything that may help?"

"Actually yes, I brought along some Takowori root that my team and I discovered in Japan. It's supposed to help with healing wounds when ground into a paste. I figure it might be good since they cut him open."

Harry smiled at his godson. Ever since he left Hogwarts, Teddy had been intent upon exploring the world and using his love for herbology and inborn kindness to discover new ingredients for elixirs and medicine to help the ill. Harry was a bit surprised that he wanted to help his cousin, whom he hadn't really seen much of. Lily jumped up on Teddy's back and swung her arms around his neck. "And you brought me my favorite chocolate from Norway, right?" she hopefully alluded. Teddy laughed. "'Course I did, Lils. And James, I brought those caramels from Germany you liked from last Christmas too." Both kids eagerly went running for Teddy's bag that he'd set on the floor. Footsteps came into earshot, quiet and tentative. "Good morning!" Ginny cheerfully called to a nervous-looking Draco standing in the doorframe. The man was fully dressed but still looked a bit tired. "E-Edward?" he said aloud. Teddy offered a weak smile. "Hey, cousin." he greeted with a wave. "I…er…wanted to bring you by some new things I've been researching. For um, for Scorpius." Draco blinked for a moment, a million questions swirling around in his head. He couldn't mentally catch one to form it into words. "Your mum wrote me," Teddy explained quickly. "Don't think I'm stalking you or anything. She asked if I knew of some stuff that could help. She told me where you were." When Draco still didn't have anything to say, Teddy awkwardly rocked back and forth on his feet and shrugged. "I'm not a weirdo or anything, promise." he encouraged. Draco appeared to smile slightly—he was realizing just how grateful he was that his extended family did care, and that his own mother had oddly reached out in a way too. "Thank you," he murmured. Teddy smiled back. Harry suddenly saw those same gentle, kind eyes that the young man's father had once too.

Teddy followed Draco back to the little room where Scorpius was laying propped up on pillows, head slightly turned towards the window with warm light streaming in, with closed eyes. Teddy let out a sad sigh. He approached the bed cautiously, not wanting to startle the sleeping child. Draco reached out and touched Scorpius's blanketed foot. He stirred and lifted his head, and gratefully leaned over so that he could have the hearing charms refreshed onto his devices. His eyes worked at focusing. Suddenly, he squinted a bit in confusion—who was this turquoise-haired person standing before him wearing a yellow sweater and jeans? "Hey," a soft voice murmured. "We haven't met before. But I'm your cousin. Well, a slightly distant cousin. But a cool one. A cool one that brought you stuff to make you feel better and also some sweets. I heard you like chocolate." Still bewildered, Scorpius blinked a bit. This was a very confusing thing to wake up to in a new house and a new bed. Looking over, he saw his father bringing the person a mortar and pestle. "Just call me Teddy," the blue-haired man said with a smile.

Teddy took a small black twisted root out of his bag and dropped it into the pestle. When he ground it up, it made a crunching sound. "This'll also help with the skin irritation that may occur with the tubes rubbing on his face." he said aloud to Draco. "If he starts saying it hurts or you notice the skin getting red, just put some of this on it." Scorpius suddenly became a little self-conscious upon realization that so many people were looking at him from the doorway. Harry, Ginny, Draco, Teddy—it was as if he was an experiment. Once Teddy finished, he crouched near the bed. "Alright, let's see your cut." he said, pulling back the blanket. Suddenly Scorpius flinched away and tugged his shirt down. "N-No…" he whimpered. Draco stepped closer. "It's only a paste, little one. It won't hurt." he assured. But Scorpius was adamant. He held his shirt down with shaking hands. "I-I don't want…anyone to see." he cried. "It's so ugly!" Ginny stepped in now, putting her gentle hand over Scorpius's. "Sweetheart, look at Harry. He's got a scar straight on his forehead! I can't count all of mine I got from Quidditch. Scars make us unique. Brave. They're physical reminders of courage we showed in difficult times." Draco's face reddened slightly and he put his arms behind his back. Scorpius didn't budge. "J-Just not yet," he pleaded, avoiding everyone's gaze. Draco knew that this wasn't going to go anyway but he didn't want to waste the time and effort Teddy put forth. "How about the ones on your back from the chest tubes?" he offered. "Can we start there?" With hesitation, Scorpius nodded. Ginny guided Harry out of the room so Scorpius would have some privacy.

Teddy was gentler than Scorpius expected. He removed the bandages so carefully and talked his way through everything. He used some light humor to keep Scorpius's mind off of the awkwardness of it all. He spread the cold paste around the tender, angry wounds with his fingers in circular motions. "Not so bad, right?" he murmured. "I brought you some chocolate, but I see you've got that feeding tube in there. So perhaps you can save it as a treat for when you get it out."

"Y-You've seen one of these before?" Scorpius asked shyly.

"Of course. I bring supplies and stuff to St. Mungo's. I've seen plenty of things. You can't scare me off." With that, he gently tapped Scorpius's nose with his free finger. Scorpius smiled. He wondered why he hadn't met this relative earlier in life.

When Teddy finished, he helped Scorpius settle back onto his pillows comfortably and grabbed his bag. "I'll see you sometime again," he told the boy. "You're brilliantly brave. Keep staying strong." Draco shook Teddy's hand and thanked him for making the trip and for the special root. Teddy grinned. "Any time, cousin. Let me know if you need anything." Teddy quietly shut the bedroom door behind him as he left and took a few steps forward. Suddenly, he felt his knee brush something odd so he took a step backwards and reached down. Swiftly, he pulled the Invisibility Cloak off of a crouching Albus, exposing him. "Nice try," he added with a wink. Grumpily, Albus stood up and yanked the cloak back. "Don't tell my dad." he muttered. Teddy rumpled his hair. "I won't. Why are you using this in the house, anyway? Hiding from your dad?"

"Yeah, actually. I am. He thinks I'm being obsessive over Scorpius and he yells at me whenever I just go to check on him. He says I get 'moody' and 'depressed' about it all."

"You're just worried about him,"

"Exactly!"

"Maybe your dad is afraid something else is going on and doesn't want you being 'too friendly' with Scorpius while he's living with you, in case, _you know_…"

Albus quickly reddened. "I haven't sorted that all out yet, Teddy. I'm working on it."

"You like him a little more than normal friendship bounds say you should?"

"I said I don't know! It's just…really confusing." Albus shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Let me give you your present then." Teddy fumbled in his bag for a moment and then pulled out a small bottle of golden-brown liquid that swirled with a reddish tint. "Use this," he said, handing it to Albus, "when you need an extra little shot of courage."

"W-What is it?"

"Firewhiskey." Teddy said with a smirk. "Just a nip. I had my first taste when I was your age. Be responsible with it and it gives you just enough bravery to overcome a fear."

Albus studied the bottle in his hand, wondering how this known spicy intoxicating drink actually did taste. Teddy closed his bag up again. "Might want to keep it private though. And take it from me, someone who's um…_been_…with both: listen to what your body wants, and Amortentia doesn't lie." Teddy winked, patted Albus's shoulder, and continued on his way. Albus watched him go, wondering if he'd just accidentally outed himself or got some clarity on his confusion. He gave a slight sigh. Whatever he was feeling about Scorpius, at least he knew he wasn't the only one in his family. He glanced at Scorpius's door, then back at the bottle. He put it in his pocket and walked back to his room.


	26. Chapter 26

Scorpius slowly awoke one morning about two weeks later, his eyes slowly blinking in the bath of morning sunlight streaming in through the delicate drapes on the windows. He let out a careful sigh as he relaxed into the soft pillows supporting his back. He savored the feeling of waking up without feeling like he was suffocating. _Clank!_ "Dammit," a man's whisper came from the side of the bed. Scorpius abruptly opened his eyes—what on earth? He craned his thin neck to see over the edge of the bed and caught sight of his father kneeling before the oxygen tank, trying to twist the knob with that special stupid key but failing miserably. Scorpius sat up. The blankets rustled a bit, catching Draco's attention. He sadly sighed. "I'm so sorry, little one. Did I wake you?" he asked. Scorpius shook his head. His hair had become quite a bit longer in all of this time of resting and being bedbound. The heartbreaking smile he gave softened Draco to no end. He rose and pressed a kiss onto his son's forehead. "I'm just trying to change your tank on my own. Dr. Applewhite made it look so easy when she did it on her visit last week." he explained with a chuckle. Scorpius giggled. "Dad, I'm just so happy." he replied dreamily.

It was true—things had been on the up lately. Scorpius was visited by his doctor and was given clearance to take himself to the bathroom now instead of having to be carried by his father. Scorpius was doing well and had an easier time talking, breathing, and doing some mild walking. He even walked to the kitchen table and back on his own once! Draco however was still concerned about everything, and took the doctor's orders very seriously. He was allowing today to happen only because Scorpius had been so good, compliant, and without complaint with all of his treatments. "I'm happy too, little one." he replied. "But before you go today, I want you to do five minutes of your laying exercise." Draco was sure that any other teenager would've rolled their eyes or groaned at the fact that they were being held back from what they wanted to do. But he had the most perfect son in the world. Scorpius gave a soft smile, supported himself on his elbows, then carefully slid over to the middle of the bed and turned over onto his stomach. He winced. Draco took a seat on the bed and gently rubbed the boy's back gently. Scorpius let out a hiss and grunt of pain. However much it hurt, it was imperative that he practice laying on his stomach on top of the incision across his chest. His lungs needed to have familiarity with body positioning and still be able to work regardless of the pressure in his chest cavity's location. Draco thoughtfully sighed at the sight. "You know what we used to call this when you were a baby? Tummy time." he explained.

"I did this even when I was a baby?" Scorpius said through a strained voice.

"All babies do. It gets them used to picking up their head and moving their limbs. Now look, I get to do tummy time with you all over again."

"That's um…well…can we just not call it 'tummy time' though? I-I mean, I appreciate that it gives you fond memories, and I don't want you to think I'm embarrassed or anything, I just—"

"Scorpius, relax. We definitely won't call it tummy time. You're about to be fourteen and that's completely understandable."

Draco smiled when his son giggled a bit. He was beginning to see what an anxious child Scorpius was in comparison to the Potters, and how desperate he was to please others. It was sweet, but it sparked a little fear that Draco was seeing similarities of his childhood nervousness. He wished in his heart that for once, the boy would let loose, give in, and live for the moment… Scorpius squirmed a bit. "Has it been five minutes yet?" he asked timidly. Draco blinked, he'd lost track of time in his stroll down memory lane. "Sorry, little one. Yes. Go on and sit up." Scorpius gratefully rolled back over and propped himself up again, accepting the following help of getting dressed into a comfortable green jumper and a pair of jeans. How good it felt to wear regular clothes again!

After a bit, Scorpius emerged from their bedroom, taking careful steps and pulling his oxygen tank on wheels behind him. He looked up when he reached the end of the hallway. Lily, Albus, and James were all dressed and ready as well, smiling faces aglow. Ginny was wiping a tear away from her eyes. Harry was smiling, so proud. Scorpius grinned at everyone with those hopeful eyes. "I'm doing it…!" he whispered excitedly. Ginny sniffled loudly, overcome by emotion. "Please be very careful out there," Harry reminded. "That goes especially to all my Potters. No running, no acting like a bunch of Cornish Pixies, no screaming. Take it easy on Scorpius. No peer pressure. James, I'm looking directly at you." But James was already heading to the door. "This is going to be the best hike of the summer!" he shouted, earning a whoop from Lily. The Potters were extremely eager to take their friend on a hike through the woods nearby and show him their favorite overlook to some swooping mountains. One of the perks of settling in the country. Draco was allowing for Scorpius to go because of how well he was doing lately, and he deserved a treat. Scorpius had been looking forward to this for days. But he knew very well to not overexert himself.

As soon as they made it out the door, Scorpius took a deep breath of the fresh clean air with his new lungs and didn't cough or choke. He smiled. James and Lily took the lead down the grassy path, leaving Scorpius and Albus to walk together slowly. Once they were far enough from the house, Albus put an arm around his friend. "I'm proud of you," he said supportively. Trying to keep pace and maintain steady breathing, Scorpius offered a smile and drew in a good sized breath. The walked along through the well-trodden path into the woods. James jumped up on a large fallen tree trunk. "Onward, troops!" he shouted. It was clear that the Potters knew this walking path very well and had grown up exploring and playing on it. Lily charged ahead and grabbed a large hanging branch, using it to swing herself over the trunk. Scorpius clamored over it with his thin spindly legs, panting and sweating. Albus helped him haul the oxygen tank over as well. Scorpius leaned over and stood with his hands on his knees, catching his breath; this was already proving to be quite the test on his new lungs. Worriedly, Albus stopped alongside him. "Hey, go on ahead, you guys." he called up to his siblings. "Make sure the rest of the path to the overlook is clear so Scorpius doesn't have to climb so much." The two Gryffindors scurried off, eager to blaze the trail and make it safe for the others.

Albus helped Scorpius into a nearby clearing where there was soft grass to sit on. Scorpius took big breaths, trying to steady his craving for oxygen. "S-Sorry," he breathed meekly, putting a hand on his own rattling chest. Albus quickly shut down the apologizing, telling Scorpius there was nothing to be sorry for. It was a few minutes before Scorpius was able to pull himself out of the shallow breathing. They rested there on the grass, some of the warm sunlight barely peeking through the leaves of the tree canopy above them. A breeze rippled through the stillness of the forest. Scorpius sighed, drawing his bony knees up to his chest and hugging them. "This is such a perfect day to be outside," he murmured dreamily. "I just…feel so lucky. And yet odd. Like I'm forever indebted. To _so_ many people." Albus turned to face him and reclined on his elbow in the grass. "What do you mean?" he asked. Scorpius sighed. "My dad. He paid probably more money than I'll ever make in my life just to get me all this treatment. Your aunt, for finding me the best doctor and healers. Your mum and dad, for making sure Dad and I weren't alone in this. Of course, all those surgeons and nurses who looked after me, especially when I was in intensive care. And…the boy who died and…gave me these lungs. How can I ever tell any of those people thank you in a big enough way to show my gratitude? It's impossible! I'll never be able to repay any one of them for all they've done for me."

Albus could see that Scorpius was becoming quite emotional and anxious about this indebtedness he was feeling. However, selfishly, his mind was occupied with just how perfect Scorpius looked in that moment—thin hair (he liked it on the longer side now) blowing in the breeze, pale skin a beautiful contrast to the greenery around them, silver eyes full of so much emotion, adorable long nervous fingers trembling as he went on and on, soft lips that seemed to have just enough color tinged to them… Albus felt a knot in his stomach. He wasn't helping his own case of trying to 'sort it all out'. He thought back to what Teddy said. Listen to your body. Albus's heart was racing, and his brain was screaming out what it wanted, his lips were tingling. "Scorpius," Albus quietly choked out. The timid boy turned to look at him. Albus sat up. "M-May I…" his voice trailed off. He moved a bit closer, sensing Scorpius tense up a bit. He rested his hand on the boy's bony arm. "May I kiss you?" he whispered. The blonde boy was clearly trembling hard now, his eyes wide in shock and fear. "M-Me?" he whispered shakily in pure disbelief. Albus nodded, leaning in a bit. "E-Even with…this?" Scorpius asked, pointing a shivering finger at the oxygen tube looping on his ears and situated in his nose. Again, Albus nodded. He raised his other hand and gently cupped Scorpius's soft cheek, breathing tube and all, and let his fingertips work into the thin wisps of hair they could reach. He leaned in closer. Closed his eyes.

And pressed his quivering lips against Scorpius's.

He really thought his heart was going to explode in joy and nervousness. Scorpius was shaking so hard that Albus briefly became concerned that he was having a seizure or something. But when he parted their lips a few seconds later, he felt a shuddering hand come to rest on his shoulder. He opened his eyes—Scorpius hadn't yet, he was still sitting there with his delicate eyelids closed, lips still tingling from the foreign contact. Albus wasn't sure what to say next. It was as if he'd forgotten how to speak entirely. When those sweet eyelashes came up and revealed the silver, stormy eyes behind them, Albus swore he saw his entire future flash in front of him. "I've wanted to try that for so long," he breathed, moving his hand up into Scorpius's hair. Scorpius's eyes fluttered. "M-Me too…" he whispered back. A silence passed, the two awkwardly keeping their hands on each other but staying frozen like statues. Albus swallowed. "But…not a word to anyone?" he gingerly asked.

"Never,"

"Are you feeling…a little dizzy too?"

"Yeah,"

"So it isn't just me?"

"Uh-uh,"

"Right. Good. Um. …I really um…I've been thinking about that…for quite some time."

"…Let's kiss again."

Albus looked up at his friend, wondering if he'd heard him correctly. Scorpius's eyes were gleaming—full of vibrancy, curiosity, affection. Albus bit his lip, trying not to appear too eager. But wow, he really wanted to do it again. So carefully, he moved closer and took Scorpius into his arm, swinging his leg over the other boy's so he could be directly in front of him. Scorpius held onto his shoulders with those same twitching fingers. Albus leaned in again and led them into another gentle, loving, tender kiss. He took more of the sensation in this time—the softness of those perfect lips, the gentle hiss of oxygen tickling his face, the wisps of blonde hair that teased his fingertips… He bent down carefully and eased Scorpius onto his back in the grass. He was certain this was heaven.

Scorpius realized quickly that had this all transpired before he got his new lungs, and he wouldn't have made it this long without having a panic-induced coughing fit. But now…it was as if this was the final piece of the puzzle—literally every aspect of his life had changed. And kissing Albus…oh god, it was more than he could've ever wished for. He'd thought about this for years but always told himself they were just teen thoughts brought on by loneliness and confusion. But that was wrong. This was real. So _real_. He felt himself getting lost in that woodsy-peppermint that was the scent of Albus Potter, the feeling of that boy's hand stroking his cheek, the weight of him resting on top of his thighs. _Albus Severus Potter wanted him_. Despite the oxygen, the feeding tube, the frail bones, the dark circles, the faulty ears, the less-than-perfect vision, the lungs that didn't belong to him. He wanted him. He chose him to be his first kiss.

As their romantic embrace broke apart slowly, Scorpius looked into Albus's eyes from his place on the ground. "We don't have to tell anyone, right?" he asked, a bit unsure of what was going to come next, to be honest. Albus shook his head with an easy smile. "Just between you and I until we get it all sorted out." he whispered back. Scorpius nodded appreciatively. He allowed for Albus to help him sit up again, straightening the tubes in his nostrils. Albus gulped. "I suppose we should catch up with the others, eh?" he chuckled. Scorpius put his hand on his side. "In a moment. I'm…all out of breath again." The pair looked at one another and broke into soft laughter. They rose up carefully. Scorpius suddenly felt like he was standing straighter and taller than he ever had before. Albus noticed too. He gave a nod. Gently, he touched Scorpius's shoulder, and the pair strode into the forest in tandem.


	27. Chapter 27

Draco pushed the cart holding Scorpius's Hogwarts trunk while his spindly little son sat on top, eagerly watching the crowds as they passed. He saw him craning his neck to see past people—occasionally Scorpius would shyly wave at a student he recognized. Draco sadly noted that none of them waved back. He pushed the cart up to a loading area. "Careful," he reminded as Scorpius hopped off his trunk and turned to face him. His gleaming eyes were just so vibrant, so hopeful… Draco couldn't remember a time in his own life that his eyes would've ever looked like that. He sighed at the sight of his happy son. "You've got all of your medicines, right?" he double-checked. Scorpius nodded. "Yep,"

"And your potions?"

"Yep,"

"You remembered how to turn that knob on the oxygen tank if you need to wear it in the night?"

"With the green key,"

"And you'll go to see Madam Pomfrey if—"

"If I start feeling even the slightest bit ill. Yes, dad."

"…Please work on your appetite too? That feeding tube is there to supplement your calories. You're still responsible for—"

"For eating a healthy amount on my own each day."

The train blew its whistle. Ten minutes until departure. Draco bent to pick up the trunk, but Scorpius quickly stopped him with a quick cry. "N-Not yet!" he begged. Draco looked up at the clock. "Scorpius, you've got to get your things onto the train. You'll be off soon." he replied. But Scorpius refused by sitting on top of his trunk without another word. Confused, Draco began to ask what the thinking was behind this behavior. But he was cut off when he heard someone calling his son's name. Albus Potter. He came running over, blazing the trail for all the other Potters and Weasleys that followed. Scorpius opened his arms up, expecting a tight hug like always, but quickly realized he was not being met with a warm embrace. Albus had stopped in front of him awkwardly. He had a hand out for a handshake. Nervously, Scorpius lowered his arms and took that hand, hoping it would give him an extra squeeze or something, but it was just a handshake. Nothing more.

The pair of friends hadn't seen each other for two weeks ever since the Malfoys were able to return to their own home and prepare for school. Scorpius had missed Albus's company terribly, and was beginning to feel lonesome again. He looked forward to starting fourth year just so that he could be around him again every day. But now… things just felt…awkward. As Scorpius blinked in some confusion, he was quickly sent straight back to reality when he noticed Harry reaching to put his trunk up to the line for loading. "N-No!" Scorpius cried out again quickly. It was still too early. Rose, Hugo, and Lily were all pushing their belongings into the storage parts of the train, Ron helping them along. Draco gently pulled Scorpius aside and knelt before him. Scorpius couldn't look into those darkened, sad eyes. "Are you afraid of going off on your own?" he asked quietly. "About leaving home? Scorpius, you've been through a lot. It's completely understandable if you—" The train whistle blew again. Scorpius anxiously glanced over to his left to look at Albus. But the boy was occupied in what looked like a bit of a heated conversation with his own father. Scorpius looked back at Draco, tears in his eyes. Draco gently rubbed his arm. "It's going to be alright," he assured. Scorpius gulped. There were so, _so_ many things he was afraid of at that very moment—the bullies, this feeding tube that was supposed to be removed before school started but he hadn't gained enough weight, the coursework, whatever he was to Albus now… Scorpius took a breath. "Promise me you won't load my trunk until one minute prior to departure?" he asked shakily. Draco didn't want to waste precious moments arguing with his son by questioning why. He nodded in agreement. He opened his arms and welcomed his fragile boy into them warmly. Scorpius buried his face into his shoulder.

They stayed like that for a long time. Draco didn't know if he was afraid to let go or if Scorpius was. "I love you," he murmured. He heard Scorpius sniffle. Another train whistle. Their hug hesitantly broke apart and ended by Draco patting his shoulder one last time. Scorpius blinked away some tears, then stepped up onto the train. James nudged him cheerfully. Draco waved at them from his place on the platform, stopping when he felt a tug on his sleeve. "Mr. Malfoy?" he barely heard. The engine was beginning to hiss and the crowds were getting louder. But it was unmistakably Albus Potter that was trying to catch his attention. "Mr. Malfoy, don't load his trunk until one minute prior!" he shouted. At first, Draco nodded, but then he decided that perhaps this kid would give him a little more insight as to why this was such a pertinent demand. "Why?" he asked over the noise. "Why the wait?"

"Because if you load it any earlier, the other students like to take it and paint 'Voldemort's Child' onto the sides!"

Draco's heart stung. This wasn't a good idea, sending Scorpius back to school so soon after what he'd been through—he wouldn't be physically or mentally strong enough. His heart raced as he looked at his little son curling up near a window seat on the train, staring back at him. The train whistle screeched. Quickly, he grabbed Scorpius's trunk and shoved it into the bottom compartment. Albus swiftly jumped onto the train after a parting kiss from Ginny. Suddenly, Draco's heart panicked—this time, he reached out and grabbed Albus's arm. "Albus!" he shouted. It was nearly impossible to hear now. "Please take care of him!"

At first, he wasn't sure if the boy heard his plea because Albus just looked at him really sadly. He glanced at his own father, then back at Draco. Albus gave a nod. The train was starting off in motion. Kids up and down the train waved out of windows, called goodbye, excitedly bid their parents farewell. "Get your head back in that train!" Ginny shouted at James, who was leaning a bit too far out of his cabin window waving. His uncle Ron, however, was giving a thumbs-up from the platform. Draco was filled with intense anxiety as the window containing his son grew narrower and more distant. He questioned himself—was he a good parent for allowing Scorpius to go back to school? Was it practical to ask another fourteen year old to watch over him in his place? Would it be alright if Scorpius came home and just took some extra time to recover? He felt someone nudge his arm. Ginny. "He'll be fine," she encouraged gently. "My kids, not so much. James is going to come back missing an arm one of these years and Albus definitely has the typical teenager attitude. But Scorpius, he'll be fine." Draco swallowed hard. He hoped she was right. Beside him he heard Ron chuckling. "Wait 'til they get there and unpack and find what I left in all their trunks." he giggled. Hermione stepped up and immediately rolled her eyes. "If _you_ sent our children off to school with toads in their luggage, I'll never forgive you." she hissed. Ron shrugged. "Even better," he teased. Hermione raised a sharp eyebrow, which must've meant he was dancing on her last nerve because he decided to spill. "Love potions!" Harry groaned. "The last thing I need is for James or Albus to come home saying that they have girlfriends. And if Lily comes back saying she has a boyfriend, I'll knock your head off, Ron. She's too young." Ron was too busy laughing to care about what his friends had to say.

The last thing that was on Draco's mind was for Scorpius to find love at Hogwarts—he just wanted him to survive fourth year. Though he did slightly hope that this would be the year that someone gave Scorpius some positive attention instead of ignoring him or bullying him around. Draco silently wished that maybe Scorpius would find a special, caring, patient person that could just see how much good he had in him, despite his name and physical state.


	28. Chapter 28

Scorpius never realized how different it felt to breathe in air that didn't burn his lungs and scratch like sandpaper.

Being in the Great Hall and taking in all of that warmth and freshness was an entirely different experience for him. It didn't feel like he was weighed down by stones in his chest. It no longer felt like he was going to fall asleep at any given moment. Scorpius was seeing a completely changed atmosphere here at the castle. He swore he saw Headmistress McGonagall give him a brief smile as he looked around in wonder. He spent all of the Great Feast hoping that Albus would…go back to normal. Albus was talking a lot with some of the other Slytherins at the table, and whenever Scorpius would try to get his attention, it felt like he seemed anxious. Quietly, Scorpius went back to picking at his food, a little eager to just get back into the dormitory where he and Albus could do their late-night chats and midnight snacks.

As they followed the prefects back in to the commonroom, Scorpius hung towards the back of the group where Albus was. On the descending staircase, he fell in stride by him. He discreetly reached over and touched his hand. However, to his surprise, Albus quickly withdrew his hand away and blushed. "Scorp…" he whispered. Scorpius studied his face closely, trying to discern what he was thinking—it just seemed sad, confused, lost. Albus folded his arms across his chest and continued down the stairs. It hurt. It really hurt the smaller boy to see his friend recoil from him like that. Why would he suddenly want space? Especially after…what _happened_ that summer? Scorpius swallowed hard. A million thoughts stormed around his brain, driving thunder and lightning across his brain, sending a chilling rain down his spine. Maybe he'd somehow upset Albus. Maybe Albus had grown tired of him. Maybe he wasn't a good…kisser? Oh no—he'd probably ruined everything if that was the case. Albus would never want to kiss him again if that time wasn't good. What if he'd given off vibes that he didn't want it? What if Albus thought that he didn't feel the same way about how everything transpired? Oh, if he only knew how frequently he thought back to those perfect moments alone in the woods…

Scorpius could feel that tired, achy feeling setting into his bones that usually came along when he was experiencing an emotional spell. While some of his fellow students hung around the commonroom upon entering the Slytherin house, he went straight to his bed so that he could unpack his pajamas. Albus wasn't anywhere to be found. He scurried into the bathroom so that he could undress without anyone mocking him. Slipping silently out of his clothes, he took a few pills out of his pockets and three vials of his special potions. He carefully removed his sweater so as not to tear the tape holding his feeding tube against his skin and running down his spine. Scorpius paused when he caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror. His heart sank.

The pale flesh stretched across a bony skeleton was probably not something anyone would find attractive. That tiny, skinny tube that wormed its way across his cheek—it wouldn't catch any positive attention. And especially that red, angry, _horrid_ scar with the traintrack stitchmarks around it that went all the way across his belly, tracing the bottom of his ribcage. Ugh. That wasn't something he wanted _anyone_ to _ever_ see. Tears began to build. He'd had really high hopes about starting Hogwarts again as a changed, normal person; he wanted to finally explore the grounds, attend all of his classes, enjoy the meals. Everything. Scorpius was beginning to realize that it wasn't the new lungs that were going to make or break his year—in fact, it wasn't the old lungs that had caused him to be so miserable in the first place here. It was the loneliness. The aching, painful, isolating lonesomeness that pursued him around every corner. Albus had been his only shining light. And now? Now Albus wasn't even interested…

Scorpius let out a sniffle. From there, his emotional walls broke and tears cascaded down his cheeks. He quickly pulled his pajama shirt on and hugged himself to warm up against the autumn chill sweeping through the castle. Drawing in deep breaths, he reached for his pills. He dutifully swallowed them all and downed his potions, thinking of his father. He wanted to make him happy. To respect him. Scorpius scrubbed at his face to get those red splotches off and remove the stray tears. No use in making any more spectacle to all the other students that hated him, right?

Immediately after, Scorpius went straight to bed. He paused at Albus's fourposter—all of the curtains were drawn. Perhaps he'd gone to sleep already too? Scorpius let out a despondent sigh. He knew things were going to be different this year, but he didn't expect them to be _this_ different. Scorpius quickly slipped into his own bed and buried himself under the extra blankets. Maybe tomorrow things would go back to normal.

One he was sure that Scorpius was asleep, Albus climbed out of his fourposter and padded softly over to his friend's bed. He peeked through the drawn curtains, watching the tiny shoulders move up and down with each breath. He sighed. Quietly he bent down before the oxygen tank and slipped a bowl of soapy water out from under his own bed. He grabbed an old t-shirt of his. Albus carefully began scrubbing at and wiping away the painted insults scrawled across Scorpius's oxygen tank that had clearly been put on the train too early without him knowing. As soon as he'd come into the dormitory and seen it, he knew he had to take care of this before Scorpius could notice.

As he cleaned it away, he felt deep into his thoughts. Scorpius would never know how frequently he thought about that perfect moment in the woods. There wasn't anything in the world that he wanted more than to go back to that day, that minute when he pressed his lips against his best friend's. If only he had a Time-Turner. But things were odd now. Different. They had to be. If Albus showed his true feelings as freely as he wished he could, Scorpius would be completely shunned by everyone at Hogwarts and would feel even more isolated. They'd promised to never speak about the kiss to anyone but each other. Albus worried that if things continued or that people began suspecting… it would only be harder on them both. And weren't they isolated and disliked enough already? Albus scrubbed a little harder at a particularly stubborn 'Muggle Lungs' insult dried onto the side of the tank. He thought about everything his father had warned him about before he even got on the train—don't oppress Scorpius, don't stress him out, don't get involved in other people's emotions, don't use anyone else to get what you want. Albus hadn't yet told Harry about his questions regarding the feelings for Scorpius that were harbored in his heart. He figured he probably wouldn't be angered by it—probably just more possessive that his youngest son had a romantic interest. The _last thing_ Albus needed was for rumors and opinions on the age-old Potter-Malfoy rivalry turning into a big gushy controversial romantic affair. With how famous his dad was, it would probably hit the Daily Prophet within minutes. So at this point, all he could do was yearn. Long for Scorpius's touch, his kiss, his affection. But now was not the time to act upon anything when the eyes of the school were going to be all on Scorpius, "the boy with the Muggle lungs". It was hard enough being a fourteen-year-old going through changes and romantic feelings for the first time—to add fame and family pressure onto it was just unfair.

But also, he thought about what Draco Malfoy had said to him earlier too. Take care of him. Regardless of anything else, Scorpius would always have a special place in Albus's heart. He felt responsible for keeping the boy company and ensuring his safety when he wasn't at home. Why wouldn't he? And confused as he was about all of the feelings he had bouncing around inside his brain about the boy, he did know one thing—he didn't like life without Scorpius Malfoy in it. So if he had to pretend for the world that he was purely being a friend and taking care of this sickly boy out of the goodness of his heart, and hide the fact that there were risky thoughts and emotions that crashed down upon him at the very mention of his beautiful name, Albus would play the game. At least for now. There were more important things at this point than getting romantically involved with someone—keeping Scorpius alive was the highest priority.

Albus gave then tank a final once-over to be sure he'd removed all graffiti. He rose from the floor and opened the curtain to Scorpius's bed again. He used the green key to turn the latch on the oxygen tank. It let out a whisper of a hiss. Albus gently touched Scorpius's bony shoulder, causing him to stir. "Did you take your nighttime medicine?" he whispered to the sleepy boy. Scorpius squinted a bit, having trouble comprehending with his hearing charm wearing off. He thought for a moment, then nodded. "Your potions too?" Albus went on. Another nod. Albus gently guided Scorpius onto his back and lifted his head with care. He slipped the oxygen tubes around the boy's ears. Positioning the cannula into his nostrils, he eased him back down. "Just for tonight," he whispered as he tucked Scorpius under the blankets again, "while you get used to the castle air." Scorpius's eyes dreamily fluttered closed again—it was clear he was exhausted. Though he was certain that Scorpius had already drifted back to sleep, Albus leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the boy's cheek.

He closed the curtains, hopped back into his own bed, and laid back against the pillow. A hot ball of fire had shot right down into his stomach with just that little kiss. He knew he'd better cool his thoughts down—now was not the time to go toying with Scorpius mentally and emotionally when he was still in a very fragile state. Just like his father had advised. Albus sighed. He wished he didn't care what people thought; he wished he could just do what he wanted without fear. Irrational anger began to rise up in him at the whole situation—he didn't want his father to be famous, he wanted a private life. He didn't want to be afraid of quickly losing Scorpius, he wanted everything to be healthy and strong. But at this point it was useless to get angry; all he could do was dream of the past. Dream of that moment in the woods where the sunlight shone delicately on that soft blonde hair, the way the green of the grass made that creamy skin look even smoother, the sensation of the quivering lips against his own…


	29. Chapter 29

These days, Scorpius was finding it easier to just leave his hearing aids uncharmed as opposed to hear the empty loneliness surrounding him.

Whenever Albus would accompany him to the library, it was for the sole purpose of studying only—he stayed fixated on his books and there was little room for conversation. Scorpius tried to lighten things up, to chat and be friendly, but Albus seemed almost unreceptive. Whenever he would ask what was wrong, Albus would just answer with a sigh and a "I've got a lot to try and sort out on my own". Scorpius wished it wasn't this way. What had changed? How could his best friend have gone from being warm and encouraging and even adoring of him to being so distant? Scorpius was sure it was something he'd done to drive him away. To tire him. He woke with the same hope every day that it would be different and maintained a positive attitude; every night he went to bed feeling crushed.

This particular day was finishing up to be no more hopeful than the last. Scorpius was in the boys' bathroom preparing to have a calming hot bath before beginning the nighttime regiment of pills and potions. Earlier, in Charms class, he'd earned Slytherin five points by giving a correct answer before even Rose's hand could go into the air. He thought that perhaps getting back into the academic swing of things would boost his mood enough to get him to see some good in coming back to Hogwarts—he was finding that he was mistaken. He felt terribly dramatic for thinking this, but Albus had been the only good thing about going to school. What else did he have? Peers who mocked, hated, and spat venom at him. An aching desire to go home. Lonely nights spent hiding in his fourposter to avoid teasing. Guilt for not being around for his mother's final year of life. Scorpius thought more and more about the medical records he'd found at home that were from his father's inpatient stay at St. Mungo's after the war—it seemed that, like father like son, Hogwarts had driven him mad too.

Scorpius undressed quickly from his robes, trying to ignore that big ugly scar across his abdomen, and hopped into the warm water. His muscles tensed at the sudden change in temperature. That middle part of where his incision was lit up like fire, causing his shoulders to scrunch and his head to fall back. He hissed softly. In a moment of brief emotion and lucid thought, it flashed across his mind—maybe it would've been better if he'd just died in surgery. Whoa. Where did that come from? Scorpius even surprised himself. He shook his head quickly, a few water droplets flying from the ends of the hair near his neck. Though the water was hot, he suddenly felt very very cold. Sick. Nauseous. He scrambled a bit and clamored out of the tub, accidentally bumping his skinny forearm on the way out. Breathing hard, he hugged the towel close to him. An odd, sudden panic was crawling up his legs all the way to the top of his head. It suddenly felt hard to breathe. He threw his robes on and hurried out of the bathroom—the only thing on his mind was that he needed air. Everything felt stuffy, hot, stifling. He needed to breathe. He ran down the corridors, certain that if he was caught he was going to be caught and deducted House points for being out past curfew. As he ran he felt unexplained tears beginning to build.

Scorpius wasn't sure where he was going—he just wanted to run. Run and get far away from where people might be to make fun of him or shout at him or pressure him. Before long, he was reaching the staircase leading up to the astronomy tower. His lungs burning and his head pounding, he charged up the stairs. Air, air, he needed air…! "Hey!" he heard a male voice call out. Scorpius froze. He was in trouble now. He turned around to find the source of the voice, but found no one but a picture frame hanging on the wall. A man and a woman were in the frame, looking at him. Scorpius timidly stepped down a few stairs until he was in front of the pair, panting and trying to catch his breath. The woman with bright pink hair wearing a crescent moon choker leaned closer to the man. "I'll let you talk to him," she murmured, giving Scorpius a soft smile before stepping out of the frame. The man watched her go, then turned back to look at the boy in front of him. He had simple clothes on, ruffled hair, and scars on his face. But his eyes were very gentle. "Are you Scorpius?" he asked calmly. Panicked because he figured he was going to be reported and sent straight to Headmaster's office, Scorpius nodded and let more tears spill down his cheeks. "Oh, there's no need to fret. You aren't in trouble." the man assured. "I just…I can tell when a student has too much going on and…they need someone to talk to." Scorpius wiped his face on his sleeve. "I-I…I-I'm fine." he hiccupped. The man gave a sad smile. "They put my picture here for a reason, Scorpius. I've talked many students down from this tower and pointed them in the direction of getting help. You aren't alone, and you aren't the first. There isn't anything to be ashamed of. Now. Will you have a seat so we can talk a bit?"

Feeling slightly anxious, yet a bit curious, Scorpius hesitantly took a seat on one of the stairs and drew his knees up close to him. The man gave him another soft smile. "Well done. Now. Let's just go over from the beginning. What's on your mind? Can't sleep?" Scorpius shrugged, trying to wipe more tears off of his face. "I-It's just…everything just feels so _wrong_." he whimpered. The man nodded. "Ah. Change can be either good or bad. Or both. How are you feeling like things are wrong? What were they like before?"

"Well…t-they weren't too different. I had no friends but Albus, I didn't really fit in. But now…now I haven't even got Albus as a friend and it's my fault."

"Is he upset about something?"

"I-I…honestly don't know. He's different now. I survived this surgery in the Muggle World and me and my dad stayed with his family while I recovered. We loved spending time together. He was my best friend. Everything was going fine. But as soon as we got back to Platform 9 ¾ , it was as if I'd never known him at all."

"Albus. Albus Potter?"

"Yes, Harry's son."

"Hm, I've become a little more used to seeing his brother come flying up these stairs to drop water balloons on unsuspecting victims below. I haven't seen much of Albus. But anyway. First let me start off by saying that you are very, very brave for undergoing such a medical treatment in a world you were unfamiliar with. It's incredibly strong of you to persevere."

"I don't…I don't _feel_ strong."

"Well physically your body's been through a lot. As has your mind, I'm sure. Do you worry about your family and how they're getting on with you being ill?"

"It's just me and my dad. My mum…passed away second year."

"Ah. I'm terribly sorry. She's undoubtedly also very very proud of you. But I can see where you'd be worried about your father in this—you're all you have for each other. Now, Albus is obviously very special to you as well. He was your only friend here, the only one who reached out to you when you were at your weakest moments. It's hard to lose a friend like that. Of course. But why would you feel like it's your fault?"

"Because…we…at the end of summer…he and I…we…kissed. And we both enjoyed it. I thought. But now I think perhaps I sent off the wrong…vibes. Maybe he's upset with me for not doing more, or for telling him that I liked it. He says he has to sort a lot out and we both promised we'd never speak a word of it. By the way, please don't tell anyone."

"Of course your secret is safe with me. Scorpius, you're carrying a huge burden. You're bearing the weight of the world on your back alone. You're taking responsibility for things that you have no control over. You're overwhelmed! It's easy to get this way, especially at your age. But I'm glad you're here with me so that we can ease it up a little together, alright? First of all. You are not responsible for your father's happiness or sadness. I know it may seem like time has passed, but your father is a grieving man—regardless of how long it's been since your mother died, he lost a piece of him that he will never get back. There isn't anything you can do or be or turn into for him that will fill that void. He has his own healing to do. You can't fix him, Scorpius. You need to live for you. And now, onto your situation with your friend. Scorpius, relationships in general are very confusing and painful at times. It's completely natural. I think you've got this pressure on yourself because not only is it your first relationship, but it's a rather…unconventional one. Did you always think you were going to grow up and marry a girl you liked and have children with her?"

"I suppose so…"

"And now your entire world is different because that vision has been rocked by the fact that it's a boy that you're having feelings about. And while there's absolutely nothing wrong with that, your mind's subconsciously gone into shock about it! So you're second-guessing every little thing you do. Does that sound like what's going on inside your head?"

"Quite a bit, actually."

"Now don't you think there's another boy out there going through the same shock, the same pressure, and the same fears about being different or disappointing his family? It's that same boy that expressed his feelings to you. It's Albus. You're both working through this at the same time, but separately. And in my opinion, it might be better, not easier, but better to work through it together. Perhaps talking to him will allow for both of you to open up?"

"I…can't bear to look at him. I feel so embarrassed. I've got all these new scars on me from the surgery that are so ugly that I honestly don't ever want him to see because then he'll just be horrified—"

"There's the overthinking again. Let me tell you something. I spent thirty-seven years of my life truly believing I was unlovable. I, like you, had a dangerous condition forced upon me at a young age. I was bitten and turned into a werewolf—how could anyone ever love a werewolf? But people in my life did show me kindness that I didn't see the importance of until I got older and could understand—I was allowed to come to Hogwarts and accommodated for, I had a good group of friends that cared for me and paid no mind to my condition. And then I met my wife, Nymphadora. I deeply thought I didn't deserve her. But she was so patient and kind and we talked through it all, we worked together, and we found love there. Scorpius, as you can see just from my face and hands here, I've got plenty of ugly scars that I despised and deemed unlovable. But the truth is, absolutely everyone in this world has scars—some are on the outside for the world to see, and some are on the inside from battles we fight silently within ourselves. Either way, scars, regardless of where they are, show our bravery and willingness to go on even though there was pain at one point."

Scorpius suddenly felt a little lighter inside. His father's scars—they were signs that he'd been strong after pain. His own scars showed that he battled a deadly rare disease and was winning. And Albus…had scars on the inside from the pressure of his name and family. They could get through this. He looked up at the man in the picture gratefully. The man smiled. "Now, I'm not going to sit here and lecture you any longer. I want you to think everything over. And come right back here if you need any more guidance. You're exhausted in all senses, physically and mentally and emotionally, and I want you to take this weekend to rest and regain your confidence. Talk to Albus. Keep in mind what I said. But also…give yourself a break too! Can you do that?" Scorpius nodded. He felt a smile coming onto his face. Suddenly, things looked a little more…hopeful. The man chuckled. "There you go. Well done. Now, before you go back to your dormitory, sneak over to the third floor corridor past the fourth gargoyle statue in the east wing. If you stand there and knock on the door, you may get to meet a ghost there that'll be happy to share some chocolate with you. It will make you feel better. He'll also help you get back to your dorm without getting caught—he's known to cause quite a bit of distraction around here just for the fun of it. He and his twin brother used to get into all sorts of trouble." Scorpius stood up, wiping his nose on his sleeve again and giving a thankful smile. He glanced down at the nameplate underneath the picture frame. "Thank you Mr….Lupin." he murmured. The man gave a humble nod.

Scorpius took a few steps down the staircase quietly so as not to call any attention to his presence. Suddenly, a thought hit him. He went back up a few steps to the picture again. "Um…Mr. Lupin?" he nervously said. "I-I wasn't…I wasn't coming up here to jump from the tower." The man gave a nod, a solemn one, but kept the kindness in his eyes. "I know. But you ended up here for a reason, and maybe that reason was for us to just chat. Isn't life a wonderful madness?" he said with a smile. Scorpius nodded. It was true, perhaps life was just full of one crazy thing after another. A door creaked downstairs. Scorpius immediately took off, quietly running all the way back to the Slytherin dormitory.

When he entered the commonroom, it was dark except for a few glimmering candles lighting the way. He slipped into the boys dormitory and hurried to his fourposter. He hopped inside before anyone could question what he was doing up and out so late. Oh! As he rolled onto his bed, he landed on something a bit hard. A box. A box containing a chocolate frog. He gingerly picked it up and opened the packaging to find a card inside with a winking Fred Weasley's picture. Maybe that was the ghost Mr. Lupin was talking about—the one with the chocolate? Scorpius smiled, recalling everything about their conversation and how good it made him feel. He slipped a notebook out from under his pillow (one he always kept nearby in case he needed to send a rapid owl out to his father or something) and rummaged in the bedside drawer for his quill and ink. He scribbled out a note in the dim light.

_Albus—_

_Meet me in the owlry after breakfast at 10am. It's important._

_S_

Albus was a late sleeper in contrast to Scorpius who was up at the crack of dawn every day. He figured that would give his friend enough time to rise and eat before meeting him. He would take Mr. Lupin's advice and rest on Saturday, but he also wanted to use it to clear the air and gain his inner peace. Scorpius sneaked out of his bed and tiptoed over to Albus's. He drew back the curtain, set the note on the pillow beside the sleeping boy's head, and paused for a moment to take in the sight. Gently, carefully, he leaned in. And pressed a kiss to Albus's cheek softly. His heart gave a little leap—he jumped back over to his own bed and hurriedly undressed for bed so he could lie down and get enough sleep for his day tomorrow. He could do this. His inside and outside scars showed just how brave he really was.


	30. Chapter 30

Albus made his way up the stairs to the owlry that morning quickly, but feeling a bit hesitant. He was afraid of what Scorpius was going to want to talk to him about. But at the same time, to have alone time with his friend was something he had been secretly begging for. A chill passed through him. The cool late autumn air was whispering through the gated window openings along the narrow staircase. He'd spent all morning thinking up things he could say in his head in response to an imaginary conversation with Scorpius—but the words of his father kept echoing in his mind with every step. A pang of guilt stabbed through him when he considered how damaging it would be in his father's reputation to make headlines about having a son who was in love with a Malfoy.

When Albus reached the top of the owlry, he was greeted by some soft hoots and beak clicks from the owls that were waking in the chilly morning. However, there was no one else around. "Scorpius?" he asked aloud timidly. Rustling. "Oh!" he heard a small voice call out. "I didn't hear you on the stairs. I'm up here!" Albus looked up. Sitting way up on one of the higher beams of the pitch was a small blonde boy in a jacket that looked far too big on him. Despite all of his worries, Albus found himself smiling. "How on earth did you get up _there?_" he asked, reaching to step up on a perch and begin scaling up the beams himself. Scorpius gave a sweet giggle. "It's a nice place to come read, if you can get used to the smell. And watch out for that brown owl over there—he likes to rip pages out of books." Albus hauled himself up onto the third beam and grunted. "Good thing I didn't bring any books." he said.

Scorpius nervously marked his page and closed the material he'd been reading, setting it before his crossed legs. "G-Good thing you brought yourself though." he said awkwardly, instantly hating his lack of social awareness. Albus wrapped his arms around his own knees, sighing. God, how he missed Scorpius and everything about him. Every quirk, every flaw. "S-So…?" he began, unable to look at those gorgeous eyes. Scorpius's fingers were anxiously quivering. "W-Well…I um…I wanted to talk to you Albus. And I want to be clear. Even though I'm a bit known to go off the tracks in my conversations. Especially when I'm nervous. And I never mean to get so distracted, but it just sort of happ—"

"Scorpius, you're doing it again."

"O-Oh…haha…right…sorry. Well, I just…I'm…confused, Albus. I don't know…what's going on between us. We were best friends, but then…_it_ happened…and…we're…w-what are we?"

"Um…I don't know if…I don't really want to talk about this, Scorp. I'm sorry."

"Albus, this involves me and you, and literally nobody else. If this is about us, then I deserve to be a part of it too. I have feelings too."

"It isn't about…alright, listen. I don't know what I'm doing. Ok? I've got a lot of things to consider besides my feelings for you."

"…Shouldn't that be the only thing that matters though?"

"It's more complicated for me. You don't understand—my dad like, can't go anywhere at all without being stared at, without being written about in papers. It's _so much pressure _on me. I've already been the center of attention: Harry Potter's son sorted into Slytherin—does this mean he inherited an evil side? It's madness, all of it. But…imagine if they ever found out that Harry Potter's son liked kissing boys—kissing a Malfoy. Historically speaking, you and I are not even supposed to get along. And yet…I know in my heart I can't stay away from you. I can't. You are…absolute perfection, Scorpius. But we can't be together. We can't be suspected. It isn't good for you or for me in a public sense."

"You're overthinking and trying to carry other people's burdens. Shouldn't it be about what you want? What you and I want?"

"Scorpius, you literally have no friends. Do you actually think if people knew you were gay you'd suddenly become more popular?"

Scorpius blushed, stung by this comment. He could feel his cheeks get hot. "I-It's…Albus, perhaps you don't know how often I think about our day in the woods."

"I think about it too. I do. I'm…I'm scared, Scorpius. Ok? I'm scared. I'm going to be the family disappointment when this gets out. My dad's probably going to be ashamed of me, my siblings won't understand, Rose will probably never speak to me again. I'm going to lose everything. And…at fourteen, should I really be considering losing everything…for you?"

Scorpius was stabbed through the heart again. He bit his lip and looked away to hide his tears. "I'm not asking you to throw anything away for me. I just…don't want to lose _you_."

"Look…I'm not brave, ok? You are. You're brilliant. You've got a second chance at life and you can see everything a lot clearer than I can. That's how it is. I'm still cynical and jaded."

"Are you afraid your dad will hate you if he finds out about this?"

Albus looked away, swallowing hard. He appeared more tense, and Scorpius could tell that from his shallow breathing, he was trying not to let tears spill out. "He already does without knowing this." he murmured. Seeing that this was sensitive, Scorpius gently reached out his hand. Albus scrubbed at his face with his own sleeve. "I just…I'm constantly disappointing him. We're always arguing. He's told me countless times that I'm pressuring you and getting too involved in your emotions. If he ever learned just how much I feel for you…he'd think I wasn't serious. That I was trying to get something else out of you. I just feel like he's always _suspecting_ of me. Waiting for me to do wrong." Scorpius scooted himself closer to Albus on the beam and pulled him into a hug. Albus cried onto his shoulder, suddenly not caring that he was allowing himself to physically be close to his friend. It took a long time before anyone spoke again.

Scorpius just held him there, silently, carefully. Just the way Albus had always held him after he'd gotten sick or fainted. He heard Albus sob. "I just really, really feel so deeply for you. I do. And I'm so angry at the world. I'm angry at our parents for being rivals when they were young, for ruining our lives because of it; I'm angry at my dad for being so bloody popular, I'm angry that I can't do anything right, and I'm angry that I've wasted _so much time_ not showing you exactly how I feel." he gasped out. Scorpius stroked the back of Albus's head. So this avoidance and tension really was all based off of fear, just like Mr. Lupin had said. "Then show me," he whispered. "It's just you and I. There's no one around to see. Show me how you feel." Albus lifted his head. His red tearstained face exemplified those beautiful green eyes. Scorpius's gray eyes were also filled with tears.

Suddenly it was as if a switch had flipped. Albus was leaning into him, his hands on either side of Scorpius's crossed legs on the beam. He pressed his warm, shivering lips up to Scorpius's with a bit more force than anticipated. He was a bit taken aback but he didn't dislike it. Awkwardly (he had to get used to this), he rested his hands on the boy's shoulders. Oh wait, this was new. This was very new. Albus had broken apart the kiss but then gone straight in for another. It wasn't just lips touching kisses anymore either—every subsequent kiss was harder, deeper, and had more pressure. Scorpius had to admit, while this new kind of kissing was very scary, it was stirring other feelings up inside of him that he'd never had before. Albus used one of his hands to tangle his fingers into the back of his hair. Scorpius had no idea why, because he certainly didn't ask for it to happen, but a tiny whimper made its way out of his throat. Immediately Albus pulled back. "Did I hurt you?" he whispered, mere centimeters from Scorpius's face. The blonde boy shook his head quickly. "N-No…I don't know why that happened. I'm so sorry. That's madly awkward." Suddenly Albus giggled. Scorpius found himself giggling too. He loved it when the boy's hand brushed against his cheek softly. Albus sighed. "Scorpius…I'm so sorry about all this." he whispered. Scorpius was sure his face and lips were completely beet red but he offered a smile. Albus kissed him again. "I just want to be able to do this every day with you. Every moment. I'm sorry I get into my head and ruin everything."

Scorpius wished he was wearing his Slytherin scarf so that he could duck his head into it in sheer embarrassment. "I'm scared too, Albus." he admitted. "But instead of us being fearful and working through this alone, let's get through it together. It won't be easier, but it'll be better." He'd liked when Mr. Lupin had used that phrase. Apparently Albus did too, because he nodded in agreement. "So…just some rules. No kissing in public, where anyone can see. No hand-holding, no real touching. Right?" he asked. Scorpius gave a smile and nod. He and Albus embraced. He somewhat enjoyed the fact that Albus was practically leaning into his lap—being this close to him made his heart hum with happiness. When they broke apart, Albus stroked Scorpius's face again. "Despite all those rules," Scorpius said with a shaky voice. "I wouldn't mind having some time alone with you every now and then so we can try snogging like that again." Albus's eyes seemed to flash, a sly grin came across his face. "Oh?" he asked, leaning in once more. "You liked that?" He pressed his lips to Scorpius's again. After a few seconds, he let go and breathed into Scorpius's ear, "Let's go through this together. Screw what our dads are going to think."

Scorpius melted.


	31. Chapter 31

Draco was only a bit anxious about Scorpius having his first friend over at Malfoy Manor a few days before Christmas. It wasn't that he was nervous because this particular friend was a Potter, just that this friend really meant something to him personally, and he didn't want anything to jeopardize whatever was between them. Scorpius _insisted_ that he and Albus Potter were just best mates. And Draco did believe him. However, he knew that secretly, Albus was wanting more, was thinking of Scorpius in a different way. Would his innocent and unknowing son realize that?

Wait, was he supposed to have given Scorpius 'the talk' already?

Draco blinked his eyes hard, rubbing his face with his hand. No. No way. There was no need for _any_ of that at this point. Even if this friendship did blossom into something more, he would _hope_ that his son would have already come to him and let him know of any questions first. Draco gave his head a quick shake. No more thinking like that. Ugh. As a father he wasn't ready for that.

As he waited for Albus and Scorpius to return home from Diagon Alley (their goal was to eat as much sweets as they could because Scorpius wanted to 'fatten up' and get that darned tube out of his nose before returning to Hogwarts for second term), Draco sat in his office reading a book he'd obtained from some of the Healers at St. Mungo's. He kept getting distracted though in his thoughts. Just as he was back on track with his attention, there came a soft scrape at the window. Perched outside on the ledge was a black barnowl. It held a parcel and a letter. Draco pushed open the window, shivering as the cold air stung his face, and took what was addressed to him. Ah, it was from the Muggle doctor. She was sending him a resupply of the new medication Scorpius had been recently put on when they noticed he'd been experiencing dehydration without cause and lower back pain. The worst part of the new medicine was that it had to be administered every six hours—that meant Scorpius had to wake in the middle of the night to take it. For the first few nights, it had been a _disaster_. Draco hated waking him when he finally got to go to sleep because his body was so fatigued and exhausted that it took twice as much energy to get back up again just to swallow a pill. Scorpius was then all off of sleep schedule, was tired and cranky, and couldn't usually even get a nap in during the day. However, this Muggle doctor was smart. And kind. The medication supply she sent Draco this time was no longer in a pill form—instead, it was liquid, like a potion. Her instructions said that all Draco had to do was draw the liquid into a syringe (one without a needle) and put it to Scorpius's lips as he slept. If he released it slowly enough into his mouth, he'd be able to just swallow it down without having much disruption.

Draco held the syringe in his hand, sadly gazing at it and wondering what his late wife would've said about all this. She would've been _so_ much better at giving Scorpius medicine. She was far more gentle and understanding. He heard a flare and rustling outside the door from the downstairs fireplace. The boys were here. He stepped out onto the stairs and saw them coming out of the fireplace, Scorpius's arm draped around Albus's shoulder and his head down. Albus was leading him to a chair nearby. Draco swiftly hurried down the stairs—was everything alright? Albus nearly jumped a mile when Draco entered the sitting room. "M-Mr. Malfoy!" he gasped. He let Scorpius sink into the chair. "Everything's fine," he hastily explained. "We were on the way to come home from the Leaky Cauldron and he just got a bit wheezy." Scorpius looked up with his dark-circled eyes, a raspy stridor coming from his parted lips. "Hi dad," he whispered. Draco put his hand to the boy's forehead in search of any fever. He was cool. Draco let out a slight sigh of relief. "Perhaps you should rest a bit before dinner," he suggested. But his son wildly shook his head. "N-No!...No…dad…I'm…fine…really!"

Draco warily kept an eye on Scorpius as he pushed himself up out of his chair and covered a bag Albus was holding on his arm. "N-No…peeking!...Christmas…" he stammered, meaning that whatever was in the bag may have been a present that would be opened in a few days by his father. Scorpius practically dragged Albus up the stairs with him in a jagged sprint. Draco watched them hurry away and couldn't help but feel a slight weight come off his chest. Scorpius had a friend. A real friend. And he was _so happy_. Maybe for at least right at this moment, what he needed was to step away from the medicine and the problems and the issues and just be a teenager having fun with his friend.

Later that night, after a dinner of giggles and smiles and glee, Draco noticed Scorpius and Albus carrying pillows and blankets in heaps down into the library. He was trying not to get in their way or be overbearing or "lame", but he had to know what on earth was the purpose of this—Albus was going to stay in one of the guest rooms beside Scorpius's. He gingerly knocked on the doorframe, causing their attention to turn onto him. "Um…" he began nervously. "What…um…how…do you…um…have everything you need?" How stupid. He was sure Scorpius was going to hate him. But his son had those sweet sparkling eyes. "We'd rather have it be like a real slumber party, where we camp out and spend all night reading and telling stories and snacking!" he exclaimed. Draco was sure that no other boy his age would be this excited to have a friend stay over. But his innocence was sweet. Albus smiled sheepishly at Draco. Draco nodded, trying to understand, and then opened his arms to Scorpius. "Well, goodnight then." he said awkwardly. He wasn't sure if his son would want the usual hug and kiss before bed when there was an audience there. But Scorpius bounded over and threw his arms around him, snuggling his head close to his father's chest. "Goodnight, daddy." he muffledly murmured. When the broke apart, Draco patted Albus on the shoulder. "Goodnight, Mr. Potter." he said. "Both of you, no staying up too late, alright? And Scorpius please don't eat so many sweets you get a stomachache. Do you understand?" The boys nodded in agreement. However, the moment Draco stepped out of the library, he heard Albus and Scorpius begin their giggling again.

Albus smiled as he watched Scorpius lie down on the floor with books surrounding him and multiple blankets on top of him. The blonde swallowed nervously, thumbing the page of a book he'd picked up. Why was Albus staring at him? As if reading his mind, Albus then said aloud, "You're the only bloke I know that still wears a matching pajama set instead of just pants and a shirt." Scorpius blushed, yanking his blankets up to his chin. "So what? They're fancy!" he cried, playfully kicking a blanketed foot out at his friend. He hated to admit that he thought Albus himself looked very good in his long-sleeved casual shirt with checked pajama pants. Albus pushed some of the books in their pile away and scooted his pillow and blankets a little closer. "Is this ok?" he whispered. Their pillows were right beside one another. Touching. Scorpius nodded. Those damn shakes were coming back, causing him to visibly tremble. Albus laid down and adjusted his blanket so that it was also covering Scorpius's several. Oh. So he was making it obvious that he wanted this to be a 'sleeping-together' thing. Scorpius tried to think back to all of Mr. Lupin's advice and let Albus take the lead on this new step to their relationship. He too laid down. When he did, his friend slid over a little closer and put an arm around him, his hand cupping his cheek. Very gently in the dim light, Albus leaned in and pressed a soft kiss onto Scorpius's lips. "Goodnight," he breathed. Scorpius realized he'd been holding his breath this whole time. He shakily let it out, unable to form words. It was alright to Albus though. His dreamy smile said it all.

Several hours later, Draco carried a candlestick and the syringe full of the liquid medicine down the stairs as quietly as he could. He hoped that Scorpius and Albus weren't still up this late reading and telling their stories and eating their sweets. It was far too late to be doing any of that. And if they were, Scorpius would be thrown off a sleep schedule for days. Draco didn't even want to think about it. He crept quietly into the library where a few candles flickered softly and safely—he'd always charmed one or two to stay lit through the night ever since Scorpius came home from the hospital as a child. For someone with poor vision (and even worse at night) total darkness could be a scary thing. Ah, they were both asleep. Draco knelt down beside his tender son. Scorpius was curled into a ball, facing Albus, head tucked down against the pillow. This wasn't going to be easy.

Draco gently pulled the covers back a little and eased him so that he was slightly more on his back. Scorpius let out a sleepy hum at the repositioning. With trembling hands, Draco carefully pulled the frail little jaw open and placed the tip of the syringe past his lips. He slowly pressed against the plunger. The pink liquid oozed onto Scorpius's tongue, causing his face to scrunch in confusion but his mouth begin to work at swallowing it. Draco moved a little quicker now that he'd gotten the hang of it. Please don't wake up, please don't wake up. Just let this work. As he finished the last of the medicine in the syringe, Scorpius's mouth continued making a little sucking motion, like a nursing baby. He sleepily tasted the remnants and made a disgruntled face. Draco wiped the corner of his mouth with a piece of a blanket and stroked Scorpius's cheek. "Shhh…" he hushed gently, though he knew it was futile because at this point the hearing charms had definitely worn off, leaving Scorpius deaf. But his half-lidded eyes fell closed again. And he went straight back to sleep without a fight. Yes. He'd done it. This had worked! Draco silently rejoiced at the fact that he hadn't had to fight a battle over medication tonight and pay for it all day tomorrow.

He gently reached over to turn Scorpius back onto the comfortable side. Wait. Albus rustled and stirred under the blanket now too. Damn it, Draco had forgotten this kid could hear. He silently hoped he hadn't awoken him accidentally. But Albus let out a sleepy sigh and…reached his arm out. He wrapped it around Scorpius and pulled him a bit closer—his free hand stroking the back of Scorpius's hair. For a moment, Draco couldn't move. His son…was in love. His son had someone who'd fallen for him. Who cared for him. Who loved him. As Draco's heart swelled with relief and happiness, it also broke a bit. How he wished Astoria could be here to see this—affection in its purest form. She'd know just how to encourage Scorpius to have an open discussion with his parents about this relationship. As Draco pondered if he was doing all he could to subtly support his son, he felt himself being overcome by the emotions and memories regarding his true love. Quietly, he rose up and crept back out of the library. At this point, it didn't bother Draco that Scorpius's first love was a boy, a Potter at that; he was just so glad that his son was getting the chance at all of life that he deserved. Wait…he hadn't checked to see if Albus had a shirt on. Damn. Did that make him a bad father? In protectiveness of his son, he snuck back into the room, squinting through the dim light. No, wait. That was a sleeve attached to that hand. Ok. Everyone was clothed. Good. No harm done then.

Draco quietly returned to his own room where sleep was inevitable and thoughts chased one another round and round in his head all night. As he sat on his bed, he let his hair down from its fastening at the nape of his neck. He put his head into his hands. He was _so happy_ that Scorpius was going to be able to experience being loved by a special person, just as he had been. But the selfish part of him deeply missed Astoria still. The grief rose up in him like a fiery bubble of black mud emerging from a volcanic pool deep within his soul. He reached over to his bedside table where a picture of he and Astoria on their wedding day danced in the frame. He smiled at the memory, at the laugh she was giving as the held one another. Love in its purest form. His parents (more specifically his father) tried to control his love—tried to force old traditions and ideas into him that would make a "morally correct marriage". All it did was fill Draco was hatred and anger. Because he knew Astoria was his soulmate and nothing could change that. No pureblood rules, no customs, no coaxing.

So why should he ever bear upon Scorpius when it was his turn to fall in love?

Why would he ever want to be like his father and control his son's feelings by making him feel ashamed for loving who he did? Draco knew all too well that the heart wanted what it wanted. So as he sat there, holding a memory of the brave and true love that he'd once shared with his soulmate, he vowed that he'd never say a word about what he'd witnessed tonight until Scorpius came to him about it.


	32. Chapter 32

Soon after Christmas, Albus stayed overnight again at the Malfoy Manor. Scorpius was enjoying the fact that he was getting to spend so much time with his friend to the fullest extent. This was so much better than writing letters back and forth for the whole school holiday! But most of all, Scorpius loved what got to happen on their sleepovers—lying beside Albus all snuggled under blankets, wrapped in the strong, gentle arms of his friend, getting to feel the soft breathing rustling his bangs as kisses were pressed onto his face. It was _immensely _relaxing. And so, so romantic. Waking up in the mornings with Albus's arm around him and keeping him warm was something he could definitely get used to. And the most fun part was that it was entirely a secret—Draco wouldn't ever find out since they kept it so well hidden. This was perfection. All of it.

For Albus, he had no other desire in his heart than to spend every morning of his life waking with Scorpius in his arms. When he held him there, he finally felt at peace—like he knew that Scorpius was finally safe, protected. Nothing could get to him while Albus was there. Everything was alright. He woke in the night sometimes and was filled with a rush of joy that this boy that was complete perfection was snuggled up beside him, and Albus decided that these feelings he was having were nothing short of bliss.

There was a problem surfacing though.

Its name was Harry. He and Albus often argued, but lately a bone of contention between the two of them happened to be the constant question of, "Why do you feel the need to constantly be running over to Malfoy Manor? What's going on there that can't go on here?" So, just to get at his father, Albus asked if Scorpius could spend the night with them that holiday at their home instead. Ginny of course thought it was a wonderful idea. Harry liked Scorpius, he really did. He didn't mind that Albus and Scorpius were friends. He just didn't like the fact that Albus seemed to be becoming more of a secretive and withdrawn teenager the more time he spent with him, and he was afraid Scorpius's situations and overall aura were making Albus depressed. Reclusive. Frustrated. However, he did allow for Albus to extend the invitation to the boy to come stay overnight at their house—perhaps then he could really check and make sure that Scorpius wasn't trying to change his son for the worse.

When little Scorpius arrived at the Potter household, Ginny melted and instantly welcomed him inside. It was the first time that Scorpius was going to be sleeping away from home (aside from school) _without_ a family member present. He was nervous. Definitely. Draco had gone over with him a million times just how frequently he needed to take his medicine, and when to sleep and when to wake so he stayed on schedule. Scorpius hoped that sleepovers would be as wonderful here as they were at his home. Albus eagerly brought Scorpius to his room so they could set up their arrangement for the night. Ginny brought extra blankets in with several pillows. As Albus and Scorpius chatted and arranged their bedding, Harry stepped into the doorway. He cleared his throat. "Hey, Al." he said aloud. "Perhaps Scorpius should sleep in the bed and you on the floor. It may be better for his breathing." Albus felt a low-burning flame spark up inside of him that usually signified his anger was building. "We always do a camp-out on the floor. We sleep across from one another and share books." he muttered. Harry didn't move. "That may be how it works at Scorpius's home, but not at yours." he snapped. Scorpius nervously scratched his head. "I-I'll do whatever you'd prefer, Mr. Potter. Really, I don't mind. I don't want to b-be a burden." he nervously stammered. Albus shot him a look. Harry smiled kindly at him. "Thank you, Scorpius. I just think it'll be better for you. I would hate to have something happen to you while you're away from your dad. He'd never forgive me, or himself." he stated. "Now could you teach my son how to be more understanding and respectful?"

That night, Albus lay on the floor reading through a book about werewolves. He glanced up at Scorpius who was nodding off a bit as he too read a book of his own. Albus's heart fluttered. The boy was so adorable. He rose up, climbed onto the bed beside Scorpius, and snuggled under the covers with him. He blew the candlelight out. Scorpius became a bit nervous and pulled away, nervously reminding him, "Doesn't your dad kind of want us separate? H-He seemed pretty clear…" Albus intertwined his fingers with the pale boney ones beside him. "I don't care." he whispered.

"Do you think…he suspects something?"

"…Not that there's something going on between us. But he's afraid you're making me 'dark'."

"Dark? Like I'm corrupting you?"

"No, just that your pain and sadness is also making me sad. He's afraid I'm going all depressed on him. It isn't necessarily you. He just wants me to slip up so we can fight. It's like this with everything."

Scorpius's big silver eyes were full of emotion. He stroked Albus's cheek. "Will he be angry if he knew?" he whispered. Albus shook his head and rolled his eyes. "No. Not about that. He'll just want to yell at me about safe sex and stuff like that and panic that I'm not practicing what he preaches." Scorpius's stomach got a weird flutter in it as soon as Albus said that word. To hide his reddening face, he buried his head into the pillow. Albus chuckled softly, pulling him closer and kissing his forehead. "Scorp, we're alright. We've just had too much time with our families and need the freedom of being at Hogwarts again." How the tables had turned—just weeks ago, Scorpius had been assuring Albus that everything was going to be fine in their relationship; now it was the other way around. Albus leaned in and gave Scorpius a kiss on his lips gently. Kiss after kiss followed.

After a few minutes, Albus continued kissing his friend and rolled slightly so that he was lying on top of the frail skeleton that was trembling in nervousness and excitement. Everything was perfect. Albus gently slipped his fingers under the hem of the pajama shirt that covered a bony, fragile rib cage. His shivering hands wandered over soft skin. Suddenly, Scorpius broke off their kiss and grabbed Albus's arm. "I-I…" he began nervously—his breathing was wheezy. "I…I'm…not…..ready…for that yet…" Albus removed his hands and set them instead of both sides of the boy's face. "Ok," he whispered, gently kissing the tip of his nose. "Then we'll wait." He returned his lips to Scorpius's eagerly. But after a few seconds, he pulled away again. "I-It's just…it's my scar…" he went on. Albus leaned back a bit. "_That's_ what you're afraid of? That I won't like your scar?" Scorpius nodded. Albus let out a breathy laugh—he couldn't believe that's all that was holding him back. "You're mad!" he chuckled. "You're bloody mad! There's nothing about you that could turn me away. Scorpius, I don't care if you had scars all over your stomach and legs and arms and face, I'd still see that you were beautiful." The blonde boy smiled tenderly. He allowed for Albus to return his hands to their original place.

Far later that night, Scorpius and Albus laid snuggled in bed together under four blankets, sleeping in the best peace that either of them had. It was different sleeping in a bed together than just on the floor with some pillows. It felt real. However, Harry was up particularly late that night working on an overdue report that he needed to finish for work and he decided to check on the kids before going to bed—something he always did ever since James was a baby. He crept into the hallway of rooms. Lily was wrapped in her pink sheets, her beloved Pygmy Puff curled up at her shoulder and nestled into her fiery red hair. Peeking into James's room, he saw an abandoned chocolate frog box and a lanky teenager sprawled out across his bed with terribly messy hair. Harry quietly opened the door to Albus's room…

The very next morning, Draco heard a knock coming at the front doors of Malfoy Manor. This was completely unusual, as visitors never stopped in and usually the large gates outside kept them from trying. He cautiously drew his wand as he stepped up to the doors. Upon opening them, he saw Harry Potter standing on the front step wearing a concerned expression. Before Draco could even say anything, he'd already begun speaking. "I shouldn't have trusted you," he spat. "I said nothing when your son befriended mine, I defended you in front of the entire Wizarding World, I took you in when you needed it, and you're still a _snake_." Though Draco remained calm on the outside, he was slowly beginning to fume on the inside. "Care to explain why you've shown up on my doorstep slinging insults at me and it isn't even eight in the morning?" he asked coolly. Harry's jaw was tense. "Malfoy, I trusted you with my son. I really did. And this is what you do with that trust?"

"Your son isn't even here,"

"I let Albus come into your son's life. I sent him into your family despite my inner reservations. I expected that you'd ensure my son's safety and wellbeing when you were in charge of him—and instead, I find out you've allowed for completely inappropriate things to happen while you turned your head?"

"…What on earth—"

"Why did I catch my son in bed with yours last night?"

"W-Wait, like… '_in_ bed', or just…"

"Sleeping beside him, holding him the way a married couple does, clearly content with their position?"

"…Is there something wrong with that?"

"It's—I'm—it isn't that—I mean, nothing's _wrong_ with it, but it still isn't appropriate for—"

"It almost sounds to me like Harry Potter, the Chosen One, can't come to terms with the fact that his son may have romantic feelings for someone of his own gender."

"That's not what it is, Malfoy. I'm bloody enraged at knowing that this must not be the first time this has happened, and considering Albus's practically spent more time at your home than his own this holiday, I'd say this is something he became familiar with here."

"What does it matter how they're sleeping? You're blowing this completely out of proportion. Let them sleep the way they please at a damn sleepover—"

"If they're sleeping like that, then god only knows what else is going on in that bed before they end the night in that position."

Draco bit his lip and drew in a slow breath. Of course he'd witnessed Albus and Scorpius snuggled up together while they stayed at Malfoy Manor. However it wasn't something that he would ever, ever share with anyone at all, especially since it clearly was a secret for them. He was not about to out his son or anyone else's. "Harry," Draco said in a softer voice. "You're making dangerous assumptions based on very little. This is between Albus and Scorpius. And it should remain that way until they feel comfortable coming to us and sharing more details. If they're not ready to face the world yet, we absolutely should not add more pressure. I really think this is all innocent and harmless. They shouldn't be punished for just trying to understand themselves." Harry clenched his teeth and stared at the ground for a moment before speaking. He looked Draco hard in the eye. "I don't give a damn if Albus like boys or girls or merpeople or centaurs or whatever. But I do care who he spends his time with and who's influencing him." He pointed a firm finger at the man before him. "And _your son_ is pushing him to make bad choices."

Draco was taken aback by this—Scorpius, little innocent Scorpius who couldn't even make eye contact with another person for longer than three seconds, was the one causing someone to make bad choices? Laughable. Harry turned away and began walking down the steps of the Manor. "I did right by my son by keeping him safe from the world all his life," Draco called out to his back. "And the moment he meets _your_ famous son with lifelong exposure to an entire world of _knowledge_, there seems to be more frequent lapses in judgment. Is that a coincidence, Potter?" Harry whirled around and again pointed an angry finger at his old enemy. "Albus will never, _never_ be allowed near Scorpius again."

"Sad, the boy who only ever wanted love and family is stifling his own son's happiness because his ego's too fragile."

"This isn't about me. This is about keeping Albus safe from…slippery _scum_ that are out to get what they want."

"Don't you _dare_ call my son scum. I wish you'd wake up and get it through your thick head that they aren't doing anything wrong by being close and showing affection. Not everything goes straight to the worst possible situation, Potter. They aren't _physically_ involved."

"And how do you know that exactly?"

"Because I trust my son." Draco swallowed. "And yours. They're good kids, Potter. They wouldn't…they're not doing this for the wrong reasons. And they're obviously very afraid since they're keeping it so private. Just…try to see it from their perspective."

This seemed to strike Harry, because for a moment he stopped and cast his eyes to the ground. But it didn't stick long enough. He shook his head. As Draco watched him walk away, he felt a million emotions—mainly fear for his son, that this would end up being a crushing blow to his hopes and dreams; but also intense anger that Harry refused to see this through the eyes of a confused and afraid teenager when he'd once been that conflicted and lonely in his life. Draco closed the door to the Manor. He needed to be available and ready to listen for when his son would come home in tears soon.


	33. Chapter 33

Harry paced the length of his office at home, hands shoved deep into his pockets. This was terrible. Just terrible. Albus was growing up too fast, and he was setting himself up for pain and heartbreak too young. It was true—Harry didn't necessarily care that Albus was becoming involved with someone of his own gender, but he was much more concerned with the fact that it was Scorpius who he was getting involved with. He was a sweet kid. He really was. He was awkward and goofy and kindhearted and truly dealt a tough hand at life—but the fact that he was complicit in taking Albus's innocence away was enough to make Harry upset at the situation. It had been his hope that Albus would wait until six or seventh year to seriously start dating someone—Harry hadn't gotten very serious about Ginny until he was about seventeen. He was terrified that Albus was running into this too naïve. He himself had felt so strongly for Cho Chang early in his life, but if he'd pursued that, he would've ended up unhappy and missing out on the true love of his life.

What infuriated him most was that Draco hadn't practiced what he'd preached. Here was a man who didn't meet his soulmate until he was in his twenties, clearly not wanting to become romantically involved with anyone until his own personal issues were resolved. And yet, he was allowing for his son to go out experimenting at such a young age. It wasn't right to allow their kids to be so frivolous. Harry wanted Albus to have a good future uncompromised by the pressure of maintaining a relationship. Albus had grown up particularly withdrawn, shy. Ever since he'd become friends with Scorpius, he'd changed—he opened up, he rebelled, he became moody and mysterious. Harry couldn't put the blame on anyone but Scorpius for that. Albus felt obligated to protect him, to defend him, to be there for everything for him. He'd become too involved. Really. And now with the two of them becoming…closer…than ever, Harry was afraid Albus was going to throw his future away just to continue "being there" for Scorpius. He'd seen how that kind of obsessive love could scar someone for a lifetime—Severus Snape had once taught him that love unreciprocated, rejection, could absolutely destroy a person. All he wanted was to protect Albus Severus from getting hurt in the same way his namesake had.

Harry looked up and saw Albus standing in the doorway. He motioned for him to step inside and shut the door. Albus plunked himself down in one of the chairs, wearing an angry and annoyed expression. Harry sighed. "Anything you'd like to say before I begin?" he asked. Albus rolled his eyes and clenched his jaw. Silence. Harry went on. "You're gravely mistaken if you think I'll tolerate that sort of behavior in my own house. I trusted you to make good decisions when you were allowed off on your own. And now I find that you're doing things with a boy that only adults should be doing? How many years did I attend Hogwarts and not end up in a position like I found you in? You're giving way to a future of bad decisions. Do you remember how many times I've told you _not_ to get involved with Scorpius Malfoy? It wasn't just me wasting my breath, Albus. I meant it. He's a nice kid, he very much is. But he is _complicated_. He has a cloud of suspicion following him that's been around since his birth, he's physically unwell and may not even get to live a full life, he comes from a very tainted bloodline, and he hasn't had any real-world exposure. What does that all equate to? It comes to him having a corrupted view of what life should be—and overly romanticized idea of day-to-day living. Scorpius is desperate for love and a happy family of his own. If you continue to become all wrapped up in him, he's going to unintentionally mold you into what he needs, what he wants. You have so much more potential than that Albus. You do. I can't stand here and allow for you to attach yourself to this boy that's going to hold you back."

Albus gritted his teeth. Tears welled into his eyes as he stared hard at the floor, taking in every word of what his father said. He really didn't see what this was about. This wasn't some Slytherin scheme to get either boy what they wanted, this wasn't some convenient arrangement that worked out for both of them. Taking a breath, he lowly growled out, "I…love him." Harry closed his eyes. "Albus," he said. "You're too young to understand love. Right now, you think this is what love is because you like the physical feelings you get from being close to Scorpius. You like what you're feeling when consider how far things could go because it's all new to you—"

"This hasn't anything to do with anything physical, dad." Albus angrily stated. "I've never done anything with him. That isn't what this is about. Scorpius is not some curious experiment to me to see what that kind of love is like. I've been drawn to him since that very day I met him on the train. It's love, dad. It's a deeper connection than just what I can get him to do in bed."

"Right there. That's what I'm talking about. The overly-romanticized outlook of love and relationship. You are fourteen, Albus. Your brain doesn't think that way at this age. It's too pumped up with hormones and change and—"

"You can't stand the fact that you have a gay son! You don't like the way it's going to look in the papers!"

"Albus, I'm ashamed that you'd even think that way. I _do not care_ that you're involved with a boy—"

"In _love!_ Stop saying 'involved'!"

"You don't understand what love is at your age!"

"Scorpius is showing me what love is! Perhaps your view of love is narrow-minded and _old-fashioned!_"

Albus sprang up from his seat and stormed out the door, slamming it so hard behind him that the pictures on the wall rattled. Harry smashed his fist onto his desk. "I'm just trying to protect you from the _obsessive_ kind of love that _destroys people!_" he shouted. Seething, he breathed hard and sat down at his desk. He dropped his head into his hands. Within a few seconds, he heard the door softly click open. He sighed when he realized it was Ginny coming in. She sat on the arm of his chair and put a hand on his shoulder. Harry rubbed his eyes under his glasses. "He can't do this," he murmured, voice hoarse. "If he gets entangled in a romance so young, he's going to become even more obsessed with Scorpius, and the heartbreak that's inevitable is going to crush him." Ginny stayed quiet for a moment as she constructed her answer. "Harry, what are you so afraid of when it comes to Albus falling in love?"

"He doesn't understand that there is good love and bad love in the world. The farther he goes with Scorpius…the greater the chance is that he falls into the bad love. The kind that Bellatrix had for Voldemort—a selfish desire for attention and involvement in every aspect of life. He's too young to start all that."

"You're afraid he's going to get hurt,"

"Of course I am. Can you blame me for that?"

"No. But…aren't you kind of using that selfish love on him yourself? Trying to control his feelings in the name of protecting him, but really you're trying to save yourself from seeing his potential heartbreak?"

"I…I don't see it that way."

"You're afraid Scorpius is going to take Albus all for himself. And you're afraid Albus is going to abandon you before you get the chance to really get to know him. Let's face it. You two don't know one another. All you've done is butt heads all your lives. It's normal, but now it's standing in the way of some truly good things that could happen for both of you."

Harry bit his lip in thought. He supposed Ginny may be right. His heart ached. He hated the relationship that he and Albus couldn't seem to mend—he wished he could be happy for and comfortable with knowing his son. They were both too headstrong for that to happen. Ginny touched his hand. "Don't be jealous of Scorpius for getting to know your son better than you do." she said firmly. Harry sighed. When it came right down to it, that was the problem. He was seeing Scorpius and Albus's relationship as a selfish and obsessive and experimental connection. But maybe Albus had a point. Maybe he wanted to be close to and spend time with Scorpius because that was the person that knew him best, and loved him for it.

Over at Malfoy Manor, Scorpius timidly stepped into his father's study. As soon as he came home after the disaster of a sleepover, he went straight to his room and cried for hours. Draco let him. He needed his son to approach him only when he felt ready. Upon hearing the soft footsteps in the doorway, Draco looked up from his book and met eyes with his son's. God, he looked tiny standing there all alone. His shoulders were hunched, his face streaked with tears, his fingers nervously twitching together. "Daddy, I have something just _horrible_ to tell you." he whimpered. A big shaky sob wracked his frame. "I-I'm…I'm so _sorry_…Oh I'm _so sorry_…" Draco opened his arms and stood up, but was surprised when Scorpius pulled away from him. "N-No…I don't deserve your hug. I-I've…betrayed you…" he sobbed. Draco gently took the boy's hands into his. He hated that his son was this bothered and ashamed by what he was hiding. Scorpius wheezed. "Dad…I-I…I like boys instead of girls….and I'm _so sorry_ that I've disappointed you with that….I _wish_ I could change but I can't. I just…I think I'm in love with Albus…" Draco knelt in front of his shivering son and turned his teary face up with his hand. "Scorpius," he whispered. "You couldn't ever disappoint me." The boy sniffled and drew in a big, tight breath. He wasn't buying it. Draco continued. "You'll never know how happy I am that you're having these feelings and that you have a good boy that cares about you to share this with. But Scorpius. You are _so incredibly brave_. You're brave to show Albus your love, to tell me about this. You haven't a single thing to be ashamed of. I promise."

Scorpius wiped his face on his sleeve, big wet eyes glistening as he looked at his father. "Y-You…don't hate me?" he hiccupped. Draco smiled gently, stroking his cheek. "Absolutely not one bit." The boy looked downward, suddenly feeling a bit silly for reacting so strongly. He gave an awkward breathy giggle. Draco pulled him into a warm embrace, rocking him side to side gently. It took a long time before anyone spoke again, before Draco let go of the hug. Scorpius wiped his nose. "P-Perhaps I should go and unpack my trunk then." he stammered. His father raised an eyebrow. "Why…did you pack?"

"I was afraid that you'd throw me out as soon as I told you, so I had everything packed in case it happened quickly."

Draco was frozen. He wasn't sure if he was hurt by this or just deeply saddened. "You really think I'd do that to you?" he asked. Scorpius shrugged. "I hoped you wouldn't, but…Albus and his dad fight very much and I was afraid we'd turn into that with…this." Draco hugged him again. "Their problems are bigger than 'this'. It's all stuff they've let build up and haven't addressed for years. You and I…we've been through different circumstances that have opened us up. We're always going to be ok." Scorpius sighed in relief and wrapped his arms around his father's neck. He'd been so afraid of this—so scared that he'd disobeyed pureblood customs and behaved contradictory to the Malfoy name. He'd forgotten that he had the best father in the entire world. In all the stress, he'd accidentally worked himself up—his legs were covered in nervous hives, his breathing was tight, his head was throbbing in pain. "Dad, I think I may need to lie down," he whispered. Draco chuckled and put an arm around him as they began walking up to Scorpius's room.

As they came inside and Scorpius climbed up onto his bed, Draco covered him with a soft blanket. "And just so you know," he assured. "If you and Albus need to get away or are feeling afraid or lost, you two can always come here and there'll be no questions asked." Scorpius thought for a moment. He looked away. "Do you really think Mr. Potter won't let Albus see me ever again?" he whispered. Draco offered a smile and shook his head. "He'll come around. He just has to understand that what you two have is very real and very special. He's always been rather thick. It takes him a while to get things through his head." Scorpius let out another sigh. He hoped his father was right. Otherwise, he'd have to prove it to Mr. Potter himself.


	34. Chapter 34

Scorpius quickly tied the last of his twine around the paper-wrapped parcel he'd brought up to the Hogwarts owlry on a snowy January night. He motioned wildly to his owl that was perched several beams up to get its attention. The sleepy bird remained oblivious. Scorpius quietly clicked his tongue a few times—it was late and his hearing charm had worn off, and there was no sense in refreshing it just for this. The owl didn't move. "Aaahh…" his soft voice murmured, causing a few owls to startle and rustle their feathers. Oh, finally the stupid bird awoke. It drifted down from the beam above and perched in front of Scorpius, holding its foot out dutifully. The boy shook his head, motioning that it wasn't a letter, it was a parcel, and the address was different than Malfoy Manor. The owl blinked a few times before snatching the package and fluttering out of the window. Scorpius sighed.

He hurried back down from the owlry to the Slytherin commonroom in fear of getting caught out of bed at this hour. He could feel that he was going to need his oxygen tonight. The cold air was scathing his scarred windpipe and making it hard to breathe. This was a bit unexpected. He was gasping by the time he got into the boy's bathroom, so he hurriedly turned the faucet on in the bathtub to the hottest it could go to generate enough steam that could help clear his airways. Just because he had new lungs didn't mean his underlying condition was resolved. As soon as it was deep enough, he quickly shed his clothes and hopped into the water. His aching abdominal muscles recoiled at the sudden shift in temperature but relaxed slowly in a soothing way. Breathe in, breathe out. Carefully. Rhythmically. Scorpius was relieved to find that the heat and steam was resolving his asthmatic symptoms rather quickly. He leaned onto the side of the tub, using his arms as a pillow for his head. Breathe in, breathe out. He buried his face into his crossed elbows to help trap the steam coming off the top of the water and channel it into his lungs. This was better. This was relaxing. Breathe in, breathe out.

Suddenly, Scorpius felt something tugging on his curled arms. Everything was groggy and dark. Oh no—had he accidentally fallen asleep in the bath? The tugging continued. He picked his head up and squinted through the candlelight with sleepy eyes. It was a person! He jolted awake and yanked himself away in a panic. What if someone saw him there wearing nothing? Wait—he knew that shape. That bedhead. He saw Albus leaning in towards him, trying to take his hand. On his arm was a bath towel. "N-N-N…" Scorpius sounded, wishing he could say that he preferred to get out of the tub in private. Albus leaned over the water and was trying to quickly sign to him in broken sign language. _It's alright,_ he motioned. _I promise I can't see_. You need to get to bed. Scorpius then came to the horrible realization that in his haste to get to the steamed air, he'd forgotten to collect his pajamas on the way in. He blushed madly as he slid closer to the side of the bathtub. With a wet hand, he swatted Albus away to be sure he understood that he did _not_ want to be seen under any circumstances. Now was not the time. Regardless of how he felt for Albus and how close they'd become, he was not ready to be seen naked. Albus stepped back, held out the towel, and closed his eyes.

Scorpius stood shakily in the tub and tried to steady himself by gripping the sides. However, his drop in blood pressure resulting from standing so suddenly caused his knees to go weak and he splashed back down in a tangle of bony limbs. Albus reached out, eyes open, and took both of his hands to help him slowly rise and have something to hold onto as he clamored out of his bath. As soon as he could, Albus quickly wrapped the shivering boy into the towel. He had no idea how on earth Scorpius could've fallen asleep in the tub, but he was glad he'd followed his intuition to go look for him when he never returned from the owlry. Scorpius hugged the towel around himself to dry. As he stood there, Albus couldn't help but mentally compare his sweet friend to a fawn—spindly awkward legs, wide innocent eyes, a gawky clumsiness, and yet sleek beauty. He chuckled to himself. He pointed at a pile of some clothes he'd brought in for Scorpius to put on; when Scorpius realized they weren't his regular pajamas, he signed to Albus asking what these were. Albus quickly replied that he just couldn't find the normal set he wore. It was true. Scorpius was almost too neat, making finding his things nearly impossible for someone else. Albus turned away to give him some privacy.

After a few moments, he heard Scorpius let out a soft cough and sniffle. He turned back around and saw that he'd successfully dressed into the underwear and oversized sweater that were brought to him. His bony knock-knees were a bit buckled—he looked absolutely exhausted. Albus quickly scooped up the old school robes and towel and draped Scorpius's arm around his neck. He supported him out of the boys' bathroom and towards the dormitory. Scorpius collapsed onto his bed, not even bothering to unmake it first. Albus quickly pulled the blankets back around him and gingerly lifted his legs to get the sheets all the way down before being able to pull them up over his friend. Scorpius's hand weakly flexed toward the oxygen tank near his bed. Albus wrapped the tubes correctly around his face, becoming slightly worried when he realized that he appeared so lethargic. Usually, he changed into his favorite matching pajama set before he even laid down. Tonight, he didn't seem to care that he was in a large jumper and his underwear. Scorpius's eyelids drooped shut. Albus gingerly put a hand to his forehead, wincing when it was burning hot. _We should call your dad,_ he signed after tapping the boy's shoulder. Scorpius shook his head, grimacing—he definitely didn't want his father worrying about him after being back at Hogwarts for only a week.

Albus thought quickly. He rummaged through the bedside drawers to find the small thermometer that was to be used to monitor Scorpius's temperature. He slipped it under his tongue. A few seconds passed—Albus read that yes indeed Scorpius was running a fever. This wasn't good. But Scorpius looked intent upon just going to sleep—he was in no mood to argue or try to sort this out. Albus slid into bed beside him, wrapping an arm around his stomach protectively. He'd stay near so that he could monitor things all night. He wanted to be there in case something happened. First thing in the morning, he planned to bring Scorpius right down to see Madam Pomfrey.

Harry heard a woosh as an owl descended from the chimney in his office at the Ministry of Magic. He let out a sigh—if this was one more request for his final report on the Centaurs from Hermione, he was going to have to march right down to her office and throw it at her. But wait. This was an owl he didn't recognize. And it was carrying a parcel. The owl grumpily dropped the package, then turned and swiftly shot back up the chimney and out of sight. Harry frowned, bending to pick up what was dropped. It wasn't large, maybe about the size of a small book. "To Mr. Harry Potter," the brown wrapping read, "Head of Magical Law Enforcement". Harry pulled on the twine keeping it together and slowly unwrapped the paper. It actually was a book. He turned it over and examined the cover.

A slip of parchment fell out immediately. Harry picked it up upon noticing that it was also addressed to him. "Dear Mr. Potter," it read. "I want to express to you how sorry I am for my lapse in judgment at your home a few weeks ago. I'm incredibly embarrassed and ashamed for upsetting you and for causing Albus pain. I've been thinking very hard about our situation. And I'll admit, I have been talking to Albus about everything since I myself am very afraid of what all this means for the rest of my life. So I decided to share with you this favorite book of mine. I read it first when I was eight years old, but it means more and more to me each time I do read it as I get older and have more life experience. I added some annotation to help better explain where I'm coming from and hopefully what I'm trying to say. I know that what I have with Albus may seem like 'puppy love' to you. But I hope this collection of stories shows that I truly do know what love is and that I've yearned for it all my life based upon your example. Thank you for listening. Always, Scorpius Malfoy."

Harry went from looking at the note in one hand to the book in the other. "All was Well—a Glimpse into the Friendships and Love of Harry Potter's Heroic Journey" the title read. Harry sat down at his desk with the book. The table contents was enough to make his heart stop. It listed nearly everyone he cared about—Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Ginny Weasley, Fred and George Weasley, James Potter, Lily Evans-Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore… He flipped through a few pages. Wow. Did Scorpius mean it when he said he'd annotated. He'd circled and underlined things, written notes in the margins, used colored ink. This book contained biographies of all of these important people in Harry's life and how they contributed to the defeat of evil by their loyalty and unfailing love.

Of course, Scorpius had pointed at quotes from Ginny about how happy she was when she was with Harry (he'd actually put several exclamation points here), how Ron described Harry as a person who made him braver and stronger than he ever could've been, how Sirius and James and Remus were inseparable. Harry bit his lip when he flipped to the chapter about Remus Lupin and saw how Scorpius had noted specifically, "It may not be lycanthropy, but it's everything else about me that isolates me from all the other kids here at Hogwarts, and Albus (just like Sirius) sees right through that and still chooses to be kind. Especially when he has every reason not to be." Harry let out a breath as he quickly thumbed through the book—Scorpius had clearly taken a lot of time with this and really had a deep desire to prove his feelings. Though it was painful to see some of these names and people, Harry understood Scorpius's reasoning for sending this to him. All he'd ever had to relate to in his life were stories, books. He was desperately trying to reach out and express his thoughts in the only way he knew how.

Perhaps the report Hermione was expecting could wait a bit.

This oddly seemed more important at the moment.


	35. Chapter 35

Scorpius spent a grueling two days at St. Mungo's Hospital for an infection that left his immune system frail and his father even more worried than usual.

While he spent his two days lying in bed with potions running into his blood and nurses hovering over him, he was pleasantly surprised to see he'd had visitors from Hogwarts. Albus came, of course, but also Lily and James Potter. They brought him some History of Magic homework to keep his mind busy. He was thrilled when Professor Longbottom visited—he loved that teacher but always thought he'd never notice him in class. Headmistress McGonagall came to see him as well. Though she spent a lot of time talking with Draco outside the room. Scorpius had to get enough rest before he could even consider going back to school, because any strenuous and difficult activity could destroy the body he was trying to heal.

As soon as he was discharged, Draco sat with him outside the large castle doors—he didn't want to go inside any further. "Scorpius," he'd said with a sigh, gently pressing a piece of tape to his son's delicate cheek to secure the feeding tube. "Please be so careful. You've come incredibly far and I absolutely can't fathom losing you." He appeared to be choked up. Scorpius felt guilty for some reason, and that guilt began to get frustrating. "Dad…" he began, also looking away. "Things happen. I caught a slight cold. I can't control that." Draco put his arms around his son. "Just please, _please_ promise me you're not going to jeopardize your health on purpose. No Quidditch, no sitting outside in the winter, no staying up late, no running, no dueling. _Please_." Scorpius leaned his head onto his shoulder. As scared as Draco was, he felt it too.

A few weeks later, Scorpius sat in the Great Hall at dinnertime. Things had been going very well lately—he felt much better about his health (better than ever, actually) and he was working very hard on surpassing Rose for the highest marks in potions. He knew his dad would be so proud. Scorpius quickly scribbled out a formula on the parchment before him at the table. He desperately wanted to solve this now so he could turn it in early and beat Rose to the punch and earn his House extra points—

His concentration was suddenly disturbed by a group of boys in his year that were snickering. "Such a nerd," he heard them giggle. Trying to ignore them, he looked back down at his work. A torn piece of bread roll arched and landed on his parchment. More laughing. Scorpius swiped the bread aside. "Oi, Malfoy." the boys chuckled. "You gonna cry for your daddy?" Scorpius furrowed his brow, noticing that now several other Slytherins were becoming onlookers to the teasing. "_Ohhh daddy_, I've caught a sniffle, come rescue me daddy!" they mocked in high voices. Two of the boys that were laughing began fake-coughing. "Daddy, I need your money so that I can get more Muggle organs put into me!" they screeched. Scorpius's face burned red. He swore at himself to keep from crying. The boys hurled another chunk of bread at him deliberately. Scorpius stood up from the table and scooped up his homework, swiftly turning his back and hurrying away. "Coward!" they shouted after him. "A coward just like his daddy!" Scorpius felt like he had steam coming out of his ears as he rushed down the halls with his cloak billowing behind him. How could they say things like that? They had no idea what he and his family had been through! They didn't know that he could've died if he didn't get the transplant he needed! He flew around the corner.

BAM!

"Ow!" Scorpius cried out, holding his nose in recoil. He heard someone gasp and start pulling at his hands. "I'm so sorry!" he heard Albus's voice cry out. Once he stopped seeing stars, he realized that in his haste to get as far away from the other students as possible, he'd run straight into Albus—the person he wanted to see deep down. Scorpius giggled a bit. "Oh, it's alright." he assured, allowing himself to be wrapped into a hug by his friend. "Why were you running? You aren't allowed to run!" Albus went on worriedly. Scorpius shrugged. "Just had to get away from dinner. Wait…why were you so late?"

"Scorpius, I have something incredible to show you."

Albus grabbed his hand without another thought and the two of the hurried in the direction Albus had been coming from. There wasn't even any time to ask questions. As he followed, he realized that the more he spent chasing his love, the less he heard those hateful words from his classmates bouncing around in his head. Suddenly, they both stopped in front of a big brick wall. Albus seemed extremely expectant for just a slab of stone in an empty corridor. After a few seconds, Scorpius's eyes widened when he saw how wrong he was—there was a door forming straight out of nowhere! Albus reached for the handle. "The Room of Requirement," he presented.

As they stepped in, Scorpius was amazed to see that they were actually in a spacious, comfortable area with shelves of books surrounding the walls, with a very large soft chair near a warming fireplace, and a teapot steaming delicately before two cups. He breathed out in amazement. "So it truly was repaired," he whispered. "After the fire during the Battle of Hogwarts. I'd read speculation that it had been, though some thought it was gone forever." Albus squeezed his hand. "You're such a nerd," he affectionately teased with a gentle kiss on the cheek. For some reason when he said it, it didn't sound so bad. Albus shut the door behind them and bounced over to that large sofa. "Come in! Don't be afraid!" he called gleefully. "I finally got ahold of my dad's map a bit ago and saw that it existed, and I've spent basically this entire term trying to find it!" Scorpius timidly joined him on the chair, intrigued by the tea that was there. "Is it all real?" he asked dreamily, reaching his hand out to test his theory. Albus poured them each a cup of tea. "It's real," he affirmed. They each took hold of a teacup.

After clinking their glasses together and taking a sip, Albus sighed and sat a bit more comfortably. "So what happened at dinner? Was it Bellsay and Mellor doing their wretched teasing act again?" he asked. Scorpius half-shrugged, half-nodded. The taller boy reached over and put his hand over Scorpius's. He rubbed his thumb against his bony knuckle. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I should've been there." Scorpius finished taking a sip of his tea, shaking his head with a furrowed brow. "You shouldn't have to 'be there' to fight my battles for me. I need to not be such a coward. But…ah, sometimes I don't know how. How do you gain courage when you don't know what it's like to have it in the first place?" Albus got quiet, staring into the fireplace as he got lost into his thoughts. It was a while before anyone spoke again.

Scorpius quietly helped himself to more tea. He felt that his friend had become tense, so he scooted a little closer on the chair to give gentle support. Suddenly, Albus reached into his robe pocket and drew out a small bottle of toffee-orange liquid. It glistened in the firelight. Scorpius noted that Albus's fingers were shaking as he held it up. "A friend gave it to me," he said.

"What is it?"

"…Liquid courage."

"…Like…a potion…?"

"It's firewhiskey."

Scorpius stopped. Curiously, he examined the bottle his friend was holding. He knew that this was strong stuff—not only was it very caustic, but it was very very alcoholic. "E-Ever had any?" Scorpius murmured. Albus shook his head. "You?" Scorpius blinked but also replied the negative. "Dad says that drinking is dangerous." Albus swallowed hard, squeaking out in a hoarse voice, "My dad doesn't quite know I have it." They sat in silence for a bit more, contemplating the tempting choice before them. "We need courage," Albus said after clearing his throat. "And…sometimes it feels like our dads are keeping us apart. Don't you think so?"

"My dad doesn't want me apart from you, he just wants me to be careful."

"Why are they so afraid of us? Afraid of you and I, our relationship, what could happen if we just…loved one another the way we're supposed to be loved?"

"We're…good, Albus. We really are. We don't disrespect them, we don't disobey them, we don't treat them poorly….we're really good sons. And yet…"

"Yet sometimes we're treated like we're committing this big crime."

Scorpius swallowed. It was true, and he hated himself for thinking like this. But he hated feeling like he was constantly doing wrong or not being safe for himself. He didn't want to let health rule his life anymore—he was feeling better, he could control things. Albus was suddenly popping the cork off the tiny bottle. "Let's commit the crimes they think we're doing." he whispered firmly. "They're going to be tailing us and yelling at us and controlling us anyway. We might as well enjoy ourselves a bit if we're just going to be accused anyway." He took a deep breath, braced himself, and then gulped a swallow from the bottle. As soon as it went down, he choked and gagged and coughed harshly—did it _burn_. He quickly chased it with a swig of tea, still panting and fanning his mouth with his hand. "Wow," he gasped. Scorpius was suddenly a bit curious—Albus was laughing so freely for no reason and just seemed so…_happy_. After a few seconds of uncontrollable giggles, Albus extended the remainder of the bottle to Scorpius.

He knew to say no. He knew he had to refuse. But…it was only a little bit, right? What harm could it really do? And if it would make him as happy and bold and courageous as Albus…

Scorpius took the bottle and quickly down the rest of the firewhiskey quickly. He felt every drop scathe his entire throat and set fire to his chest. It was _hot_. He knew why it was called firewhiskey. Within just a few seconds, his vision was swimming and it felt like there were bubbles in his bloodstream. He too giggled at the feeling. Because he was laughing, Albus laughed even more, which caused him to start cackling in return, and then Albus was gasping for air as he chortled. This was weird, different, amazing! Scorpius felt so free! So light! Like all of his worries and cares had been burned straight out of him with the firewhiskey as it made his way down! Scorpius leaned forward and gratefully pressed a hard kiss onto Albus's lips, so glad he'd made this choice with his friend.

Albus reached up and took his face into his hands. He deepened the kiss—suddenly it all felt so easy. Like there was nothing stopping them from loving one another the way they deserved to. Albus leaned in, guided his hands down Scorpius's back, and aided him in laying down onto the sofa. Their tingling lips met over and over, intensifying as time went on. But it felt like no time at all. As if all clocks in the world had stopped. Albus trailed his hand up Scorpius's chest. He played with the collar of the boy's shirt. He couldn't really put a finger on what he was actually doing—it was like his motions were not his own. Hesitantly, he tugged on a button up near the collar and it came undone. He saw Scorpius's eyes open a bit. They were hazy, lidded, _lustful_…?

Something told him to keep going. He undid another button, then another, and another. Just when he was about to ask if it was alright to press on, he felt shivery fingers come up and tangle themselves amidst the buttons on his own shirt. Wow. Scorpius wanted the same thing. This was…incredible. As soon as he finished removing the boy's top, Scorpius made a small sound, causing him to pull his lips away. "M-M-My…s-scar…" he slurred softly. Albus noticed that he was covering his abdomen with his arms. He unfolded them and gently traced his fingertips over the long mark across the boy's ribs slowly—he kind of gave a numb half-smile. "I love it," he whispered. He leaned back over Scorpius and continued trailing his kisses down his neck, across his collarbone, down his trembling sternum, over the ridges dipping into his rib bones, and to that mark. He kissed all of it. Gently. Softly. Scorpius suddenly grabbed Albus's hair in euphoric response—a fire inside Albus suddenly roared.

Neither of them wanted this to stop. This was perfect. This was everything they wanted—no judgment, no one watching over them closely, no one "protecting" them. Albus pushed forward, enjoying every soft sound that escaped from Scorpius's mouth as he explored his skin. He tugged at the boy's pants, pausing to look up at his friend for permission to continue his kisses. Scorpius looked at their current position and met Albus's eyes. This was scary. New. But that little alarm going off in the back of his head seemed muted at this point. It was just his body that he wanted to hear from. Not his brain. Yes. He wanted this too. He gave a nod.

Within seconds, Scorpius realized that there was nothing more in the world that he wanted other than what was happening at that very moment. He was finally, finally close to Albus in a way they'd never experienced—enveloped in a loving, tender sign of true passion. They were free. In this moment they were free. There was no health, no parents, no classmates, no pressure. Nothing. Nothing but the love they deserved from one another. This was heaven. Scorpius finally felt like he was making a decision of his own, not ruled by his own ailments or restrictions. He wasn't being held back by anything. In fact he was being enabled, welcomed, stimulated. Someone finally understood him. This was what he wanted. He wanted someone to free him from all the confines of his life…

Albus and Scorpius ended up snuggled up close to one another, a tangle of quivering limbs and stolen kisses. It was courage. For certain. They'd finally created their own rules and took control of their own lives. Albus sighed. If only his uptight, oppressive father could see him now. Lying here with Scorpius in his arms. Having taken their relationship to a new physical level. Having done this, he already couldn't wait for what would come next. But he was glad to have taken things slowly. He liked learning about Scorpius—there was more to explore endlessly. This was the way he wanted things to be. Just like this.

With his buzz wearing off into dizziness (and a bit of nausea), Albus blinked a bit and picked his head up. He pressed a gently kiss onto Scorpius's cheek and stroked back the soft blonde locks that were covering a portion of his forehead. He examined the unraveled beauty that was before him—Scorpius looked so peaceful. Sleepy, limp…

Blue.

Albus suddenly squinted a bit, trying to see through his twirling vision why Scorpius's lips and eye sockets looked so bluish. He sat up a bit more. Oh no. Scorpius's eyes weren't just closed—they were half-lidded, his eyeballs rolled back into his skull. His mouth was opened partially. There was a thick mucus-y liquid that seemed to be stuck in it, bubbling as his lungs tried to breathe. It was tinged with blood.

It felt like soberness shot through Albus like lightening. He sat completely up, shaking Scorpius's shoulders. His head fell back off the pillow limply. The bloody mucus oozed out of the corner of his mouth. Albus _panicked_. He desperately grabbed for the boy's wrist and felt for a pulse. It was weak. Slow. It looked like his chest was spasming slightly and trying to breathe but there wasn't any way it could. "No," he whispered. "No!" Albus quickly threw his robe around himself and tried to prop Scorpius up. He gave firm pumps onto Scorpius's chest to break up whatever was stuck in there, just like he used to have to do when he was so sick. "Help!" Albus shouted, a fierce sickness rising up in his stomach. "Help!" Scorpius still wasn't waking. Albus screamed in terror. This was horrible, this was absolutely treacherous—all he wanted was for them to make a choice of their own and it had completely sent Scorpius over the edge. "_HELP!_"


	36. Chapter 36

His pulse stopped.

Albus screamed in sheer terror at the realization that Scorpius was now technically not breathing and not circulating blood. He grabbed the boy's completely limp body and dragged him towards the door of the Room of Requirement—it felt like it was hundreds of yards away. Albus burst outside, collapsing onto the cold stone floor with Scorpius in his arms. "_HELP!_" he shouted. Tears were flooding down his face. Scorpius's skin was growing cold now. A wind blew his hair back suddenly and the shimmering image of a young redheaded man appeared beside him. "Fred, go get help! Go get Madame Pomfrey! _Go, go, go!_" The man vanished in thin air again, using his power of ghostly apparition to help his distant nephew. Albus's screaming had attracted some wandering students now. They gathered with wide eyes and covered mouths at the sight. Scorpius sprawled out across the floor, his bare torso displaying grayish tinged skin marked with fierce scars, his pants loosened and unbuttoned, bloody mucus seeping from the corners of his mouth.

Within seconds, Madam Pomfrey came tearing through the corridor following the ghost of Fred Weasley. Headmistress McGonagall was on her heels. Madam Pomfrey threw herself down in front of Scorpius's body with her wand ready. She cast a quick spell. Checked his pulse. Cast it again. No pulse. She waved her wand around his head and then swooped it over his body down to his toes. No breathing. She rapidly sent two wandtaps straight onto Scorpius's chest with a murmured incantation. Nothing. Madam Pomfrey dropped her wand and immediately began firmly pumping on Scorpius's breastbone with her hands thirty times in a row. She leaned in and blew two breaths into his nose. She genuinely seemed panic which was completely out of character for the seasoned nurse who'd dedicated her entirely life to saving magical youth. Albus felt nearly faint—this woman had seen some pretty horrendous battle wounds and conditions. For her to be this concerned about an emergency had to mean it was quite severe. She pumped on Scorpius's chest and looked over her shoulder. "Minerva, take down the protection spells! We need to apparate to St. Mungo's _immediately!_" she shouted. Some of the students stepped backwards to give their headmistress room.

With a swooping motion up towards the ceiling and then a flick over, McGonagall sent a shower of purple sparks across the roof. Albus reached out and grabbed Scorpius's foot just as Madam Pomfrey cast the apparition spell so that he could go with them. It was a split second. A moment. Suddenly, Albus found himself in the middle of the highest emergency level center of St. Mungo's. "Cardiac arrest, unresponsive, hypoxia, post-seizure state—it's a child, _a child!_" Madam Pomfrey shouted. It seemed like a hundred healers swarmed around them with wands raised, potions ready, devices at hand. Albus was completely screaming in terror as he watched Scorpius jolt as if he was being shocked with a Cruciatus curse. They pressed a mask over his nose and mouth and pumped oxygen into him. "Suction," Albus heard a Healer mutter to another. They used a long tube to clear the bloody mucus blocking his windpipe—the sickening sound made Albus gag. "We still haven't a pulse!" one of the team screamed out. It felt like the efforts to restore the boy then tripled. Albus scrambled to get out of the way and slumped against a wall, hugging himself.

Scorpius's body was hauled off to a private room. Albus helplessly watched them toss him onto a bed and begin pricking him with needles and intubating him. This was absolutely horrendous. He honestly felt like he was going to throw up straight away just from the sheer terror and guilt flooding through his veins— "Albus!" a male voice called out. He looked up quickly and was shocked (and further sickened) to see that his father was rushing towards him. Albus let out a wailing sob and was caught up in Harry's arms immediately. He didn't want to waste time asking how he got there or why he was there or how he heard about Scorpius. He didn't think he even had the breath in him to do so. "_Daaaaad_," he sobbed into his father's shoulder. Harry hugged Albus as close as he could—he was shaking so hard. Harry gripped his shoulders and held him back. He needed his son to calm down and not go into shock as well. "Albus—Albus, please—Albus, just take a deep breath. Tell me what happened. Albus—" The boy coursed his fingers through his own hair in distress. "D-Dad….I….I…_killed him!_" he screamed. A few nurses turned their heads. Harry took Albus's hands away from his face so that he wouldn't hurt himself, desperately trying to stop this panic. "No, no, Albus, I'm sure—"

"W-We…w-w-we…it was…j-just our first time….and…I…I _honestly didn't mean to…!_"

"Shhh…shhh…Albus, please calm down—"

"H-He's…gone! Gone! D-Dad I loved him!"

Harry pulled Albus into another tight embrace. This was very, very serious. He glanced over at the room in which Scorpius was taken. He could see many Healers around the boy—their gloved hands were splotched with blood. He leaned further in and rubbed his son's back. "Albus, this isn't your fault—" he began comfortingly. "N-No!" Albus interrupted with a shout. "Dad it _is_ my fault! _I_ brought him into the Room of Requirement, _I_ gave him the firewhiskey, _I_ initiated the kissing, _I _went down on _him!_ It was _entirely_ my fault!" Harry's head spun. He had absolutely no idea at all what on earth Albus was talking about—he hadn't any clue what happened to Scorpius and he certainly didn't know how it involved Albus. All he knew was that Lily had immediately firecalled him from the Gryffindor commonroom urgently saying that she saw Albus and Scorpius being Apparated to St. Mungo's in the middle of dinner. Without any hesitation, Harry went straight there. He was terrified that something had happened to Albus—now seeing him so shattered and guilt-ridden and helpless… he wondered what had ended them up here in the first place. Firewhiskey, Room of Requirement, kissing, going…down on Scorpius? What on earth had those boys done and how did it land them here?

Regardless of the questions he had, he knew none of it mattered at all right now. Albus needed someone. He needed his father. He didn't need judgment or lectures or anger. This was clearly a bigger deal than Harry had expected.

Harry heard rushed footsteps clicking down the hallway at full speed. Draco ran into the room of Healers and stopped in his tracks. Harry had seen him cry many times before—but he'd never seen anything like this. Draco broke _down_. He was a mess. He probably wasn't physical able to handle seeing whatever was being done to his son in there. Harry loosened his embrace with Scorpius to make ready to go drag Draco away from the doorway, the sight. As soon as Albus saw Draco crying though, he was overcome with horrid guilt, and threw up all over the floor. More Healers rushed over. There was so much chaos. So much turmoil.

_Scorpius blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the bright blinding light that had suddenly enveloped him. A…a train station? Why on earth was he in a train station? How did he get there? He looked around wildly at the pale colors of everything—it wasn't anything like King's Cross. "Scorpius!" he heard a soft voice call out. He turned around towards it. It sounded so clear. His eyes widened. "M-Mama…?" he whispered. He could see her so clearly; her soft brown hair, her favorite flowing pink gown, her soft blue eyes. She ran towards him with her arms out, catching him in a warm hug that relieved every shred of tension he was feeling. "Scorpius, my love…" she whispered, rocking him. "Oh my boy…you're so brave." Upon breathing in, he caught a drift of that familiar scent of lilies and roses that he'd longed to smell one more time ever since his mother's passing. Wait. Passing. He pulled back. "Mama…you're.…am I…?" With sad eyes, she gave a half-nod. "Just for this moment, little one. But not for long."_

"_Mama…what happened to me?"_

"_You'll be alright. I promise you. Things will be different after, but you need to use what happened as a lesson."_

"…_Did you…see, um…everything?"_

"_I know that Albus Potter feels very strongly for you."_

"_Are you…would you hate me for it if you were still here?"_

"_Scorpius, never. My heart leaps for joy when I see you together because I can see how truly happy you are. I'm thrilled that you've found someone that accepts you just as much as you accept him."_

"_I'm…Mama I really love him."_

"_Good. Love him with everything you have Scorpius. Love hard and strong and without end. But please remember that I need you to take care of your father. As much love as you have for Albus, Daddy has ten times that amount for you. Please don't leave him behind feeling left behind. His heart…it's so fragile."_

"_Oh Mama…I'll take care of him. I'm so sorry I've failed and done this. I won't…I—"_

_A train's whistle blew in the distance. Astoria hugged him again, kissed his cheek, and rocked him the way he always used to love. "Baby, it's time for you to go back." she murmured into his hair. Scorpius looked up. "I want to stay with you. Nothing hurts me here, I can see and hear so clearly, everything's…perfect. Please let me stay?" Astoria stroked his cheek with a sad smile. "We'll meet again, Scorpius. But I'm always with you. You need to go back and take care of Daddy. And to love Albus. Be brave, Scorpius. Be strong. You're my world, and you're theirs too—they need you." The train whistle came a bit closer. Scorpius looked over his shoulder and saw a blinding bright light pulling into the station. His mother smiled gently at him, stepped towards the light, and let go of his hand._

A sickening, raspy, socked-in gasp for breath rang throughout the small room of Healers. "We've got respirations!" a woman shouted. Ten wands began swirling over the tiny boy, each bearing a different spell. "Release the intubation—he's breathing on his own!" someone called. "Blood pressure's coming up, watch his pulse rate!" another Healer ordered. "Quickly, quickly! Close the trepanation before he becomes conscious!" they cried out. It seemed like a madhouse of screaming orders in a foreign language that Draco, Albus, and Harry couldn't understand. Albus peeked into the room. He almost wished he hadn't. But at the same time, it gave him some hope.

The Healers' hands were bloody—someone was stitching up a small hole at the top of Scorpius's head as fast as they could and another person was pushing a potion into the veins of his skinny arm. But Scorpius's chest was rising and falling. The fingers on his left hand were twitching. Albus felt another spell of sickness coming over him at the sight of so much blood, but he also had a twinge of relief spark across his heart. Scorpius was alive. Barely, but he was alive. He felt Harry's arms come around him again and hug him tightly—this was going to change things, he could tell. But he still felt such horrible guilt about the entire situation, and because of that, he wasn't sure if things were destined to change for the better or for the worse.


	37. Chapter 37

Harry stood outside the small glass-enclosed room that held the small Malfoy family, watching as Draco tearfully stroked his son's face at bedside. He couldn't imagine what that must feel like—having your son completely die in front of you, to hold his lifeless body, to feel as if it was entirely your fault that he was dead because you weren't there to protect him… Wait, wasn't that what Albus had been talking about all this time? That he wanted to be around Scorpius to prevent anything dangerous from happening, to save him if something went horribly wrong? He glanced over at his son who was curled up on a chair in the waiting area, wiping his eyes and sniffling. He loved him. He truly loved and cared for Scorpius Malfoy for all the right reasons. It all made sense. Albus was so defensive and fierce not because he was protecting himself, but he was keeping Scorpius from getting hurt. Albus hadn't wanted it to come out just how much the pair cared for each other because he was afraid that people would treat Scorpius even worse. So he took it upon himself to be Scorpius's _everything_.

Now was Harry particularly happy that his son was involved sexually with someone right now? No. But that was a conversation for a different day.

Harry heard footsteps approaching him so he looked to see if it was going to be someone that would tell him to leave. He was surprised to see Hermione and Ron coming towards him with concerned expressions. "How'd you—?" he began, but Hermione already had an answer. "Rose firecalled. She said she'd heard that Albus and Scorpius were sent to St. Mungo's. We were worried." Harry sighed. He nodded towards the glass room. "Just Scorpius. Albus came here with him. He's fine." Hermione and Ron looked in at the small boy sleeping in the bed. "Blimey," Ron whispered. "Why's the floor all bloody? Did he lose an arm?" Hermione squinted. She looked a little closer inside and made a wince. "He's got a trepanation at the top of his head. That's why."

"Care to explain what that is and what it means, Miss I-Know-Everything Weasley?"

Hermione shot him a look. "I'm not an expert, but a trepanation is when a Healer has to drill a small hole straight into the brain to relieve intracranial pressure."

"They _drilled_ through his _skull? _Bloody hell, why would they do that?"

"They'd have to if Scorpius was having a stroke."

Harry felt a chill pass through him. Albus was never going to forgive himself for this. Even if it was proven that this wasn't his fault, the boy was going to take it extremely personally. Harry glanced back over at his son. He was despondently picking at a thread on the sleeve of his robes. "Scorpius was dead for a few minutes," Harry said through a strained voice. "They couldn't get his heart to beat or his lungs to breathe. Albus was…destroyed."

"Is Draco alright? How are they now?" Hermione asked.

"I've never seen Draco cry like that before. Never. I think Albus is just feeling guilty now and obviously really worried. Draco looks exhausted."

"Why on earth would this be Albus's fault?"

Harry stopped. This was exactly what Albus had been fearing for years—that it would get out there before they were ready. And since they'd been involved in doing something so personal, intimate, and private, it made the whole ordeal a million times scarier for a pair of terrified teenagers that were just trying to navigate a relationship. "I think anyone who watched someone die feels like they didn't do enough to help," Harry diverted. Thankfully, Ron nodded understandingly. Hermione sighed and looked back into the room with sad eyes. "Things are going to be different for Scorpius again." she murmured. "Strokes are dangerous and can leave people really incapacitated. Hopefully he can recover quickly." Inside the room, Draco caught a glimpse of the Golden Trio out of the corner of his eye as he gave Scorpius a kiss. He looked downward and stepped towards the doorway. There weren't any words to be spoken. It appeared that he'd burst into tears again if he tried to talk. Ron extended his hand.

Draco looked in curiosity, surprise. Ron Weasley was being…kind? He reached out and took the hand with his own, appreciating the gentle shake that was given. Hermione opened her arms and hugged him. Afterwards, Harry too offered a hug. As he was pulled in, he heard Harry whisper into his ear, "I'm sorry." Draco immediately understood that this was bigger than just being sympathetic to the situation—Harry was apologizing for his behavior a few months ago when he became so angry at the fact that their sons were close. He looked back at Scorpius, sleeping in the bed. "Um…" he began softly to the audience of three before him. "It was…they found out he'd had a stroke…and they removed the blood clot in his brain, but…he went so long without breathing that there's…some damage…but they think he'll recover….and he is young, so his chances are better…it's just…" Tears broke again so he covered his face with his arm. Hermione put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "H-He's…going to need some time to…recover…and I don't want him to be under the pressure of finishing the term…so I'm going to take him home and let him rest for the summer holiday. There's only a few weeks left of school. He…just…I can't have him keep pushing himself and getting hurt…"

Harry knew that this news was going to make Albus feel even worse. Even though Draco didn't hear that confession that he'd made to his father about what happened that night, he figured Albus would automatically assume that that was the reason why. Scorpius made a soft sound from the bed, turning his head side to side in tiny motions. Draco looked worried. Hermione stopped him before he could return to the bedside. "You're going to need help. You can't do this alone." she stated. "You can always come back and stay with us," Harry offered, though he did wonder if that would be ok with Albus. Draco looked down—it was obvious that tears were threatening him. "I'll be fine. He doesn't need anyone else caring for him than me." he said brokenly.

"And who's taking care of you?" Hermione went on.

Draco bit his lip and looked back at Scorpius. He'd already been told by the Healers that Scorpius's left side of his body was considerably weakened by the stroke. They mentioned that he may not be able to get back to his normal activities because of it. He'd have to be there to help Scorpius with everything while he recovered—and then give him enough physical therapy to teach him how to use that weak side on his own. And the worst part of it all was that Scorpius was a teenager. An age where kids didn't really want their parents meddling or trying to 'help' them. He had his work cut out for him. But he'd promised Astoria as she passed that he would take care of their son and always give him every kind of support he needed. No one could fulfill that promise but him. "I don't need anyone to take care of me," he said lowly. For a moment, Harry saw a flicker of the past, hardened, strained Draco from their schoolyears. "It's always been Scorpius and I against the world, and it always will be. We can do it." Just as Hermione was about to pull out another strong argument, Ron nudged Harry's arm and interrupted. "Looks like someone's worn himself out." he said quietly, nodding back to Albus. The boy had fallen asleep sitting up in his chair—the hours of stress and terror had taken its toll.

Harry and Draco looked at one another. Without a word, they turned and walked in separate directions—Harry went to Albus's side, and Draco returned to Scorpius. Whatever was lingering in the air was unspoken. Both fathers had the same fears and concerns for their sons. Neither wanted things to change between them, but they knew this setback was going to come with consequences. And even bigger complications. Harry gently tugged Albus's arms and placed them around his neck. Carefully, he tried to pick him up out of the chair. Albus awoke groggily, but suddenly panicked and began pushing Harry away. "D-Dad, I-I need to talk to Mr. Malfoy. He needs to know what happened—"

"Albus, no. He doesn't need to. It was an accident, you didn't mean any harm and neither did Scorpius."

"B-But I almost killed his son—"

"Listen. You need to understand two things, alright? First of all, what happened between you and Scorpius is completely private. It's a normal teenage thing, and there doesn't need to be any reasoning or logic behind why it happened. Love doesn't have an answer for everything. And secondly, Mr. Malfoy needs time to sort out how he's going to care for Scorpius. Things are going to be different in their lives. Scorpius will need his dad more and that doesn't have anything to do with you or your relationship. Albus…what you saw tonight, what happened…that's traumatic for anyone to see. All things aside, you handled it very well. You did. But I need to make sure you're alright now too because…because seeing someone you care about die can really change you as well."

Albus's eyes welled with tears and he looked away.

"But Albus, Mr. Malfoy and I need to make sure that you two, our sons, are alright after all this. Both of you went through something grueling tonight. And we just…we don't want you two to come out of this any different than you were before. Because we love you. And…we love who you are. No matter what."

Albus sniffled and wiped his eyes. He allowed his father to hug him again, but he had to keep from letting his eyes fall shut—when they did, that burned image of Scorpius's body on the floor popped up and made him sick. He knew what Harry was trying to say. People who had strokes sometimes came out of it with differences in personality or mood. And of course he knew that seeing someone's body was traumatic too. He didn't feel different. He just felt…afraid on the inside. Like a motor was running inside of him, propelling his heart to beat faster and his hands to shake, even though there was nothing to be afraid of anymore. Albus relaxed when the hug ended. Harry put an arm around him and walked with him out of the doorway of the intensive care unit. Hermione and Ron followed after silently.

Draco touched Scorpius's left hand, hating himself for noticing how limp it was. He leaned in and kissed his forehead just above the bruised right eye that resulted from the drilling into his skull. "Please don't change," he whispered tearfully, stroking the boy's soft cheek. "I love you so much, just as you are. Please stay the same baby boy that's given me reason to live in this world." Scorpius slowly opened his eyes—one of his pupils was blown and dilated, the other was shrunk back. "M-M-M-M…M-M-M….aaaa….m-m…m-m-maaa…" his hoarse little voice choked out. Draco felt his heart squeeze with sadness. He wished Astoria was there too. She'd know just how to take care of them both. She was their everything. "I want mama too…" he whispered just before the tears broke forth into horrible sobs. Scorpius shut his eyes again slowly and took a deep breath.

Albus, Harry, Draco, and Scorpius all let out a sigh at the same time but didn't realize it, all thinking the same thing. This was going to be hard.


	38. Chapter 38

Albus leaned against the railing of the balcony overlooking a chilly beach, crossing his arms for warmth. Things just hadn't been the same. His mother said that coming on the summer family holiday would be a nice break for his brain—it'd take his mind off the worry and suffering he'd experienced at the end of term. But Albus felt lonelier than ever here. He watched as James, Hugo, and Lily tossed a Frisbee back and forth between themselves down on the sand. He and his whole family came to this beach in Ireland every year in the summer and he used to love it. But now, the cold blustery wind chilled him to the bone and left him feeling numb instead of relaxed and happy.

Uncle Ron waved to Albus from his seat on the sand beside Hermione, beckoning for him to come down and join them. He looked away. He just wished everyone would stop trying to _talk_ to him, _include_ him in everything, _involve_ themselves in his life. He just wanted to be alone. Away from everything. With time to just sit there and let his guilt consume him. Maybe then he'd start feeling better once he just let it all out. Nothing had been right since his dad lead him out of the hospital wing that night when Scorpius had had his stroke. Albus couldn't remember the last time he got a full night's sleep without waking with a racing heart or panicked mind. Nothing really interested him anymore—it was like someone had flipped a survival switch in his brain where he could only do necessary day to day activities. He spent a lot of time zoned out. Most especially, he hated seeing himself in mirrors or undressing to get into a bath or shower. There were no words to describe how disgusted he was with himself. With what he'd done to Scorpius and Draco.

He heard someone step out onto the balcony behind him but he didn't have the energy or interest to turn his head and see who it was. "Hey," he heard his dad say. "Mum's asking if you'd like a bite to eat now since the sandwiches didn't really appetize you much." Albus's nose picked up the scent of warm cream, fish, and some spices. His mother's clam chowder. She knew how much he liked it. Harry set the bowl and spoon onto the table. Albus mechanically turned away from the sea and sat down in a chair, making an effort to not meet his eyes. The pair didn't speak for some time. Albus spooned some soup up but let it spill back into the bowl over and over. He wished his dad would go away and stop _staring_ at him.

Harry cleared his throat a bit. "When I was your age," he began, ignoring Albus's very visible eye roll at that all-too-familiar beginning of a lecture. "I saw a friend of mine die by Voldemort's hand. Right there in front of me. I…couldn't come out of this…trance after. I barely remember that whole summer—it was like I was just drifting through life, waiting for the next bad thing to happen and steeling myself." Albus dropped the spoon into the bowl and crossed his arms while he leaned back into his chair. "Thanks, Dad. I feel loads better now." he snapped. He expected this to start an argument just like usual, but Harry didn't even flinch. Instead, he gave a slight chuckle. "Yeah. Not the best way to start, probably. Sorry." Albus realized his dad wasn't angry, but he himself was still feeling pretty irritated, so he rolled his eyes in response. Harry went on anyway. "But my point is, I know what it's like. To feel what you're feeling. There's pretty much nothing that can pull you out of it. It took me a _long_ time to realize that what happened wasn't my fault and that I couldn't stop it. I had to keep pushing so that I could bring about some good to the world instead of wallowing in doing nothing. Albus…you've got to realize, Scorpius…Scorpius has never been 'well'. Sure he's gotten better, and he made it through a great transplant that improved his life, but he's never been expected to become a healthy person. He has to learn his limits—he can't do that unless he experiences everything. He just doesn't know what's good for him and what's bad."

Albus snorted. "Really Dad? Do you think Mr. Malfoy would agree with what you just said?" he incredulously asked. Harry shrugged. "I don't think he'd blame you for anything, Albus. None of this was your fault." Albus became visibly angry now. "Stop it. Stop talking. You don't know anything. Literally everything that happened was my fault. If Scorpius went to the library that night instead of following me into the Room of Requirement, he'd be perfectly fine right now. Don't you get it? It was my coaxing that brought him in there and made him do all those things. My bad choices nearly killed him." Albus's eyes sprang up with tears. Harry was quiet now. It was quite some time before either of them spoke again.

Harry then drew a breath and looked out at the beach. "You and Scorpius had a little risk. You both decided to have a bit of secret fun—but Albus, you're not alone. Your grandfather and his best mates did mad things _all the time_. And sure, while it catches up to you sometimes, you can't live without a little risk. It's what makes us…have a reason to live. We have to have risk in order to show the courage we need to solidify what we believe in." Albus shook his head and blinked tears away. "How many years did you spend all pissy with me for being close to Scorpius? And now all of a sudden you're saying I'm an angel for trying to prove my love for him? You're two-faced. You're just trying to make me feel better and not blame _you_ for making me want to get back at you for all this."

"Do you really expect me to believe that you shared an incredibly intimate act with Scorpius just to get back at me?"

Albus set his jaw. No. Of course that wasn't why he'd done it. "…I don't know what happened Dad." he whispered tearfully. Harry avoided eye contact to try to make this less awkward. "What happened was that you realized how deeply in love you were with someone you spent _years_ caring about. And there in the Room of Requirement, there was nothing but him. Just you and him. You hadn't any thought about school, me, Scorpius's dad—and you shouldn't have! It was a special moment between the two of you. Was drinking firewhiskey a good idea? No. But it was all for a reason. You wanted there to be nothing getting between you and that boy. And for a young guy in love that's completely normal."

Albus's mind flashed back to that incredible night—what it looked like to gaze all the way up across that pale skin and meet lustful gray eyes. What it felt like to have bony knees trembling, perched up on his shoulders. Those soft breathy gasps that occasionally moaned out his name, pleading. When long slender fingers gripped his hair and pulled gently in ecstasy. He remembered how strongly his heart had swelled when Scorpius gave a final cry out and melted before him. He was in love. Absolute love. There was nothing that would ever top that feeling for him. And when he'd come back up and quickly helped Scorpius partly dress again, he ravished the sighs and squeaks that came with the rain of kisses which followed.

Albus sniffled at the memory of how quickly the passion turned into horror. "I-I…thought he'd fallen asleep on my arm," he whispered, feeling an onset of panic. "I just…I put…I pulled his trousers back on and turned him so that we were lying side by side…and I held him. I felt him breathing, I felt his heartbeat. And he just…his head fell forward onto my neck so I…I just kept kissing his forehead and stroking his hair…I thought he fell asleep…I really thought he was asleep…he….W-When I saw him…he was…turning blue…and he was bleeding from his mouth….Dad, I don't know what went wrong…!" he sobbed. His heart was racing, sweat beaded on his forehead despite the cold, his hands shook like mad. Harry moved to stand and went over to his son. He pulled him into a hug. "Nobody on earth could've known that he was going to have a stroke after. It isn't your fault." he assured gently. Albus gasped and sobbed into his father's arms, feeling a bit grateful for this hug, but also stuck in the repetitions of his brain stating that this was all because of him. "I-I-I…I need to hear t-that…t-that I'm r-responsible." he stammered. "Scorpius's dad s-should hate me…and he deserves to know t-that it was my choices that lead S-Scorpius to get sick…."

Harry stroked Albus's hair. He knew what his son was saying—the only way he could accept all of this was if someone held him responsible; if someone punished him for his mistakes. He craved it. He thought it was the only way he could get past this. But there was no way Harry was going to allow for him to explain anything while he was still in this fragile state. "I'll talk to Draco," he offered into his son's hair. "I'll tell him everything that happened so that you don't have to worry about embarrassing yourself or Scorpius. He and I will talk, and this will all be fine. He'll understand, he'll listen, and we'll all move on from this. Alright? Will that help get you out of this slump?" It took a moment, but he was relieved when he felt Albus nod into his shoulder. This was exactly what he'd been afraid of—that his son would become so disturbed by the traumatizing things he'd seen, he'd lose himself and his will to persevere. And even when he loosened his grip, he realized that Albus was still clinging to him. In a way it broke his heart. But in a different sense, he had a thought that maybe this was going to bond them, provided he treaded carefully and didn't do anything to upset Albus in this process through grief. He was happy to have thought that this could mend their relationship.

However he was quite afraid that in the process, it would tear down the delicate relationship between the Potters and the Malfoys.


	39. Chapter 39

Draco set a cup of tea before Harry in the sitting room quietly. Harry couldn't help but notice that _so much_ had changed about him; he'd always been very thin and slight, but now Draco's face was hallowed, completely white, and exhausted. His hands looked like bones covered by thin flesh. His eyes were dull, tired. The manor itself looked dim and dusty. Draco had always been one to keep things spotlessly clean. However it appeared he was no longer interested in keeping tidy. Harry noticed that Draco's hands were shaking as he poured himself a cup. "Sorry I haven't any biscuits. I um…I must've forgotten to buy some." he muttered. Draco seated himself and stared into his teacup. A few moments of silence passed as they sipped. Harry looked up, studying the broken man before him—someone who was always so put together had turned into a man with long and slightly mussed hair, dark circled eyes, and a noticeable tremor. "How's he doing?" Harry asked cautiously. Draco sighed. "Better. He's responsive, he hears me. His speech is just muddled. His left hand is quite weak and he can't see out of one of his eyes. My boy who used to love reading can't do that anymore because of his vision. He does want me to read to him though. It's his favorite thing. I can't even count how many books I've read to him, even the ones that are incredibly boring." Harry nodded in understanding. This man was _so tired_. "How's Albus?" came a broken voice in question. It was Harry's turn to sigh now. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Albus hasn't been doing well. He's…he's just mortified about what happened. I really think he's going through some post-traumatic stress disorder symptoms because he just can't function normally. But there's kind of a reason behind that, and he's been begging me to let him come talk to you, but I think I should be the one to discuss this to spare him more trauma."

Draco was looking up at Harry now, clearly concerned. "Albus wanted to talk to me about something?" he asked. A nod came as an answer. "He's…just been feeling very badly about what happened because…he thinks he needs to carry the blame."

"Why would he think he's to blame?...Did something…happen?"

"Well…alright, let me just tell you what went on that night. Albus and Scorpius met after dinner and went off into the Room of Requirement. They were just…you know, being teenagers. Looking for a private place to snog a bit. But…they got talking about how they didn't feel courageous or 'bold' and they made a poor decision to have a taste of firewhiskey. Bad choice. I completely stand by that. But I think with the alcohol things just escalated. They sort of lost themselves and…explored their relationship a bit farther…you know, as curious teenage boys would do…and then as they cuddled after, Albus realized Scorpius wasn't breathing."

Draco was staring into his teacup with wide, bulging eyes. His jaw was set but at the same time his face was hanging in shock. Harry tried to hurry on. "It wasn't the best series of decisions they could've made, but I fully believe it was just innocent fun that went badly—"

"Who brought the firewhiskey?" Draco flatly asked with a firm tone. Harry's pulse slightly picked up.

"…Albus did. He…got it from a friend or something and he just had it by coincidence—"

"Your son coaxed mine into the Room of Requirement, got him tipsy, and then took advantage of him." This wasn't a question. Draco was _angry_.

"I don't think it was that complex, Draco. Neither of them had any _intention_ of doing anything devious—"

"My son knew better. _Yours_ was the one that introduced him to the bad decisions of that night."

"…I don't—"

"How far did they go?"

"Like…sexually?"

"Did he tell you how far things went?"

"Um…yeah, he just…he said that it was…just oral sex."

Harry didn't think it was possible, but Draco paled even more. He looked like he was physically going to be sick right there. He put his head into his hand. "It could've been worse, Draco. They didn't do anything drastic. They've both still got their…innocence." Harry tried to reason. Draco was physically shaking. "Anything _drastic?!_ Potter, Scorpius wasn't supposed to partake in _any_ activities that would raise his blood pressure or put him under stress!" Harry bit his lip. He was glad that Albus hadn't come to this. Draco was panting now, pulling at his own hair and messing it even more. "You…your son…how…he promised to _take care of him!_" Harry could see that he was headed straight for a full-on breakdown. He set his teacup on the table and rose up to sit beside Draco on the sofa across from him. "Draco, you've got to relax. Hey, listen. Listen. Shhh…don't get worked up. Draco, it's alright. They're dumb young boys—they made a bad decision. They're so spooked now they'll be extra careful. It's a learning process."

"A LEARNING PROCESS? MY SON _DIED_, POTTER!"

"…Draco, Scorpius isn't well, you know that! Anything could exacerbate what he's dealing with! But you can't strap him to a bed for all his life just to protect him!"

"IT'S MY _JOB_ TO PROTECT HIM! I COULDN'T SAVE ASTORIA AND HE'S ALL I HAVE LEFT!"

"You're doing a fine job now, Draco. He's alright, he's recovering. He loves you and he loves when you read to him and—"

"DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?! HE SCREAMS AND CRIES EVERY TIME I TRY TO GET HIM TO DO HIS PHYSICAL THERAPY! HE CAN'T IMPROVE IF HE'S FIGHTING ME! THINGS IN OUR LIVES LITERALLY _CANNOT GET ANY WORSE!_"

Draco was sobbing now, shouting and crying had caused him to lose his breath. He gasped and pulled at his hair. He raked his nails over his arms again and again. This was _bad_. Harry grabbed at his hands to stop this panic—he couldn't believe that nearly everyone in his life was breaking down. "This is my fault!" Draco cried out. "By letting him go, I allowed for this to happen! I wasn't there to protect him! I never properly taught him how to be careful!" Harry grabbed Draco's shoulders. "Everyone is looking for a way to pin the blame on themselves," he reasoned. "But it won't do us any good. All we can do is learn from it! You need to stay strong for Scorpius, and Albus needs to realize that he can't be held solely accountable. If you both work together on this, you'll start understanding! And Draco…be honest with me…are you truly alright? This whole conversation went from talking things over to a…a fit." Draco sniffled, trying to gasp in his breath to steady it. His red puffy eyes had tears streaming from them. "You're not alright, Draco." Harry continued, forcing the man to look into his eyes. "How can you expect to take good care of Scorpius if you can't take care of yourself? When was the last time you slept through the night, in your own bed, and didn't wake until morning?"

Draco took long deep breaths. He was trying to pull himself together. He hated himself for causing such a scene in front of the one person in the entire world that he did _not_ want seeing him like this. He shook his head. "I-I'm…so…_tired_," he shakily stammered. Harry could immediately tell—not only had Draco been deprived of sleep for so long, but he probably wasn't eating well either, causing him to appear so sickly. To hear that he had also spent all this time firmly believing that it was his own fault that Scorpius fell so ill made it clear that he was struggling with things _far bigger_ than nursing his son who'd had a stroke. Albus must've felt the same way. How alike they were—blaming themselves for something that just happened to an already very sickly boy simply because they felt they 'did not do enough' for him. Harry realized that Draco needed the same love and companionship that he discovered Albus needed too. "You need help here," he murmured to a shaking blonde man. "You're absolutely mad if you think you can keep doing this on your own. It's impossible. It's impossible for anyone."

"I-I…have a debt to pay…" Draco croaked. Harry grabbed his wrist. "Don't say that." he sternly said. "You haven't anything to prove, or anything to pay back. Scorpius is not some punishment that you have to bear for what you did when you were younger. It would kill him to hear you say that." Draco shivered. He rubbed at his eyes, hid his face in his hands. A silence passed. "I've got no one left to help me," he whispered brokenly. "My mother and father…are out of the question. Astoria…is gone. I…_I don't know what to do_." Harry thought quickly—there had to be someone out there that could just stay with the Malfoys and lend a hand when needed to give Draco a break. Suddenly, it struck him. "Your cousin. Teddy Lupin. I'm sure he'd be glad to come help—he's the perfect person to rehabilitate Scorpius. Let him come stay here for the rest of the summer and have him do the physical therapy and give the medications. You just use the extra time to do all the good things with your son. Read to him, cuddle him, talk to him. It'll be better on all of you. As traumatized as you and Albus are, Scorpius is probably ten times more so."

Draco seemed to ponder this for a moment. His shaking was dying down. It felt like a slight burden had come off his shoulders—at least he wasn't the only one feeling guilty for what happened to Scorpius. And maybe he could use the extra help to care for him so extensively. Ever so slightly, he gave a nod. He was so glad Harry noticed it. "I'll write him when I get home," he said. "And I'll tell Albus we had this conversation and that everything will be alright once we all move forward and you two stop blaming yourselves." Draco nodded again. He knew that this wasn't Albus's fault. Though the bitter, angry part of his brain was screaming that Albus should _not_ have provided Scorpius with alcohol and then involved him in some risky activity, he understood Harry's point—they were just teenage boys, eager to be in love. The frustration had left Draco's body with the violent shouting he'd done. But it left him chilled. Chilled to the bone by fear and emptiness. "Scorpius should have no visitors or owls from anyone this summer," he hoarsely whispered as he thought. "I don't want him distracted from healing. He was doing well and then diverted to try to be a 'normal' teenager. And it cost him. No more. I want him to do nothing but rest."

Harry looked down at the floor. This demand was going to really wound Albus—he was most definitely going to take it personally. He tried to understand where Draco was coming from though, and gave a simple nod. "Perhaps the Potters and Malfoys should all take a step back from one another and heal separately." he suggested, though it pained him to do so. He could practically hear Hermione's voice in his head calling him an idiot. Draco agreed with the plan. They wordlessly rose from their seats and approached the doors leading outside. Harry stopped at the threshold. "See you on the platform in September then?" he asked assuringly. Draco nodded. "Please keep Albus away from Scorpius in the meantime." he replied. He hadn't meant it to come out that way—but this pounding headache was just making it hard to think straight. He hoped Harry would understand. Ah, this was just all too hard.

As soon as he shut the Manor doors, he went straight up to Scorpius's room where he found the small boy resting on his side. He laid down gingerly beside him, hugging the boy so close. Perhaps the reason why he was so upset, so guilty, was because he felt like Scorpius had grown up too fast and Draco hadn't had the chance to talk to him beforehand and offer him guidance. He felt like he was robbed of the opportunity to remind Scorpius how to enjoy life and relationships and love, but in a safe way for him. And now he was paying the price. Harry had been right—he couldn't keep Scorpius strapped to a bed in a glass bubble all his life. But he did wish he'd had the chance to help him grow up in a slower manner. He kissed the top of Scorpius's head. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. He knew that Scorpius was going to be livid that he wasn't allowed to see or hear from Albus for the time being. "It's for your own good right now," he affirmed, stroking his cheek. He had to do whatever was necessary to keep his son safe.

And in reality, Albus Severus Potter was currently the biggest threat to his well-being.


	40. Chapter 40

Teddy Lupin sat cross-legged on Scorpius's bed, across from him, patiently waiting for the boy to follow his instruction. It had only been a few days, but things weren't particularly off to a great start. Scorpius was _not_ thrilled to have someone other than his father in his room. He often was uncooperative, feisty, and stubborn when Teddy tried to work with him. Not being able to see well again made things very very frightening for him—and considering he'd almost lost his life, he literally did not want to separated from his father at all. He was scared. Everything was scary. The fuzzy colored shapes he could only see, the voices he didn't recognize, the way bright lights made everything blindingly white and darkness made everything pitch black. Trying to tell anyone this was impossible. Scorpius had so many things to say. Words and sentenced bounced around in his head and beat his brain up without end. But every time he tried to open his mouth and have them come out, it was like his tongue didn't know what to do. Or it would take _super_ long. He could say simple words, but they'd come out long and stuttered. He hated this. He hated every moment.

He saw the person with the bright-blue hair hazily. "Reach out and grab this cup, Scorpius." came the instruction. Ugh. This game. This was his _least_ favorite activity. Teddy would ask him to grab and hold objects with his weak hand over and over again. It was supposed to "strengthen" those flaccid muscles and awaken them to being useful again. Scorpius _hated it_. He always, _always_ dropped the cup, the quill, the candlestick. "N-N-N…N-N-ooo…" he stammered. Teddy was patient though. Too patient. "Yes, Scorpius. You can do this. You did wonderfully earlier and you came so close to getting a full grasp. Let's do it this time." he encouraged.

"D-D…D-D-D…a-a-a…d-d."

"Perhaps if you reach out and grab the cup and take hold of it, we can show your dad after."

Scorpius frowned. He wanted to like Teddy, he really did. But it was exhausting doing all this work, and he missed the way his father would try to get him to do this. He knew that if he cried or fussed around his father, he would let him stop trying and would resort to giving him cuddles or rocking him or reading to him. He just _hated_ being separated from him. It was too risky to be far apart—what if something bad happened again? Teddy had learned early on that Scorpius would ask for his dad simply because he didn't want to do the physical therapy that he was prescribed—he had to be so careful and patient so he wouldn't ruin anything and push him too far.

Teddy decided that perhaps it was time for a different approach. "Scorpius, try doing this for me, and I'll reward you with a piece of chocolate." he coaxed. He was shot a look in return. Scorpius clearly did not appreciate being 'babied'. "What would you like instead? If I put a piece of chocolate in my hand here, will you reach for it and take it?" As he offered this, he did so, opening his bag and holding a piece of candy in his hand and out to Scorpius. His heightened sense of smell perked up at the warm cocoa scent. He eyed the sweet to get his fuzzy vision to focus on the goal. He wanted that chocolate, he truly did. Now that he finally didn't have that stupid feeding tube in his nose, he wanted to eat _everything_. "Aaaah," he murmured, leaning forward a bit to position himself. He focused. Concentrated. Told his arm to move, told his shoulder to lift. He commanded his fingers to open. He hated the way he shook through the whole process—he didn't know why he was so trembly. "Well done, Scorpius." Teddy encouraged. Scorpius extended his elbow, reached out, and weakly nudged the chocolate from Teddy's hand into his own. He drew it back and picked it up with his stronger right hand. He nibbled on it.

Teddy smiled at him. "Well done. You did brilliantly. Now I'm sure chocolate won't be as interesting an incentive for too long though. So what else would you use your hand to take if you could have anything in the world?" He hoped that this would give him some more insight into what Scorpius liked—perhaps he liked spicy sweets too. Or maybe even licorice. But for some reason, the boy's eyes suddenly appeared very sad as they looked downward. Teddy gently touched his arm to bring his focus back up. But Scorpius's silvery eyes were filled with tears. "A-A…A-Al…b-b-b-bussss…" he murmured. Teddy bit his lip. He'd been under strict instruction by Draco (and Harry from the start) to not talk about Albus Potter at all with Scorpius; he was a distraction. And he was partially responsible for this entire situation in the first place. "Miss him?" Teddy softly asked in a low voice. Scorpius nodded. "If I could bring him here, I would. Promise. But…it's just not allowed for right now." The blonde boy lowered his eyes again sadly. He used his right hand to sign something that Teddy didn't understand—he thought for a moment, then gave a quick tap on the boy's shoulder. "Alright, I think I've got an idea that may help things out a bit."

Draco couldn't believe he was finally getting some sleep. Though he waited anxiously for any call for help from Scorpius or his aide, he was finally able to sit in a chair and close his eyes. Eventually, it morphed into being able to lie on his bed and fall asleep too. Perhaps Harry had been right—he needed this. He pulled a blanket around himself as he lay in the cool darkness of his room. The migraines had certainly improved with more sleep. He also didn't feel quite so shaky all the time. And with Teddy up there, he was able to spend a bit in the kitchen to make some better, easier meals for him and his son. It had just become July—he was hoping that perhaps Scorpius would be feeling well enough to try going to classes at Hogwarts in the fall, maybe slowly at first.

Then again, that may be pushing things a bit too far.

Draco was scared out of his mind to let Scorpius out of his arms again—and he could tell that Scorpius was just as afraid to leave. Ever since this traumatic accident, he noticed his son had become extraordinarily _clingy_. He always begged him to spend the night in his bed with him, to stay with him, to hug him for just a bit longer. It wasn't that Draco minded doing any of those things, but he just feared that Scorpius really wasn't ready to become fully independent again. He'd lost his trust in himself. He needed his dad.

Draco had not brought up with Scorpius that he'd learned of the events of that fateful night. It was absolutely something he wanted to talk to him about so that he could remind him of the importance of being safe, but he wasn't quite sure how to bring it up without sounding reprimanding, unsupportive, or harsh. The whole situation with Albus made him nervous though. What if he'd caused this by deliberately allowing the boys to sleep in the same bed while camping out at his home? Had he opened the doors to allow for something like this to happen? Draco squeezed his eyes shut—he wished Astoria could be there to talk him through this.

Just a few days later, Teddy stepped in Scorpius's room one morning with something hidden behind his back. "Hey cousin," he cheerfully greeted as always. "Brought you a little surprise today. But listen," he sat on the bed and leaned close to the boy. "Swear on your life you'll keep this a secret? Especially from your dad? I don't want to get you in trouble." Curious now, Scorpius nodded, reaching out (with both arms, Teddy gleefully noted) blindly for the surprise. "Alright, but first, we've got to get your pajama shirt off. Can you work on doing that yourself?" This made Scorpius visibly nervous. He hesitated, picking at his blanket with anxious fingers. "Nothing bad, I promise. We're replacing it with something else." Teddy assured. The boy stalled a bit, but then complied with the instructions. As soon as he'd wriggled out of his shirt with some difficulty, he felt careful hands slipping a different button-down onto his arms and adjusting the collar. Scorpius froze. He knew that smell.

He grasped the collar, holding it up to his sensitive nose. Pine, mint, mahogany, a hint of jasmine. This was Albus Potter's shirt.

Suddenly, he became ecstatic—such so that Teddy had to quickly hush him to remind him it was a secret. "Just don't let your dad find out where it came from," he reminded. He knew this familiar scent of the boy's lover would absolutely pick up his mood and inspire him to try a little harder in therapy. As Scorpius hugged the oversized flannel shirt around him and breathed in, Teddy put an arm around him. "Just think," he murmured softly. "If you keep working as hard as you are, and progressing so much, you'll be back at Hogwarts in no time snuggled up beside that boy and that smell in the commonroom beside the fire, and there's no way anyone can keep you apart." He saw Scorpius smile. "So let's keep working. Let's keep trying. Our goal is to get you back there just in time. He's going to be thrilled." Scorpius grinned again. He cautiously raised his tender left arm up and placed his hand on Teddy's, giving his arm a quick up and down movement. Teddy smiled proudly. A handshake. A makeshift handshake.


	41. Chapter 41

A brisk September morning streamed golden sunlight through the roof openings of Platform 9 ¾. Usually, this was the best morning of Albus's year—he always had kept a countdown going on his calendar to the day he'd get to see his best friend again and take off on more adventures with him. However. Today was different. Albus did not know what to expect when he saw Scorpius. The last time he'd seen him was when he was dead on the floor in front of him, and on a hospital cot with a hole drilled into his head. He wasn't sure how he'd feel when he saw the boy now. Perhaps it would be incredible guilt, or maybe overwhelming joy. He wasn't sure.

Albus watched the crowd carefully. No sign of the Malfoys. James came up behind him and grabbed his shoulders, causing him to jump a bit in fright. "Come on, Al!" James excitedly encouraged. "We found the compartment that has the trolley cart locked up for safekeeping—and Lily and Hugo have been practicing a spell that can crack the lock and get us in!" Albus shrugged James off of him which James didn't seem to care about, because he was already waving Lily and Hugo over to gather them. Albus kept an eye on the crowd. He peered through some steam clouds that drifted above and saw a vague light blonde man coming through, his face turned down to look at his side. Wow. It was them. Scorpius had really decided to come back to school. And Draco was letting him. Albus's heart swelled a little bit, but the moment he saw the smaller blonde boy limp into a clearing of the steam, it felt like everything stopped. Albus's heart stilled. It felt like ice was beginning to crawl over his heart and seep into every vein in his body.

Scorpius walked with a slight limp. He was clearly trying to hide the fact that he was holding his father's hand by the way he kept his sleeves rolled all the way down with the sleeves of his robes flowing. He was the same old Scorpius—skinny, small, a kind face, thin blonde hair, plastic hearing devices on his head. But then Albus caught a glimpse of the boy's eyes. One eye was normal and sparkling, but had a small pupil at the center. The other eye's pupil was large, dilated, dark. He clearly didn't have everything resolved from the stroke yet. But wait…there was a third person walking with them… Bright turquoise hair, a geeky green sweater, a tall young man inside of it. Teddy Lupin. Draco, Teddy, and Scorpius stopped before the train to say their goodbyes. Teddy bent down and wrapped the smaller boy into his arms in a warm hug. Albus's blood boiled. So that's what Scorpius had spent his summer doing instead of writing to him or talking to him. Albus swiftly turned his back to hide his outrage. He called over to his brother. "Oi, James. Where'd you say the trolley cart was locked up?"

Because he'd turned away, he didn't see Teddy let go of Scorpius's embrace with a rumple of his hair and wave his beautiful girlfriend Victoire over. Scorpius gave her hand a shake and she practically melted. Teddy bowed out to give Draco and his son some time for a private goodbye. Leading Victoire by the hand, he took her over to where the trunks were being loaded onto the train. Draco knelt before Scorpius and looked up into his eyes. "Scorpius," he murmured. "I just beg you to be safe, to be smart, and to not undo any of the progress that you've made so far. Listen…I…I know what happened that night last term. Potter told me. I'm not…" Draco sighed. Scorpius already had tears in his eyes. "I'm not angry with you. I know how much…you love that boy. And it's hard for me to say this, it truly is; but unfortunately, you're not a normal boy, and that means you can't do normal things sometimes. I'm sorry. All your life we just wanted to make sure you felt as typical as possible and we wanted you to know that you could do _anything_. But…in reality, you're very sick, and you have physical limitations. I wish you didn't. But that's how it is. You need to…bear these limitations in mind when you decide to do things. Drinking, sex…those things aren't good for you. Please…be safe." Scorpius hung his head as tears rolled down his cheeks. He quickly signed to his father that he was so sorry and that he felt ashamed of himself. Draco worked to thwart the feelings of guilt that his son was expressing. "No no, please don't say that. Little one, no one is angry with you. I just want you to be alright. Please take care of yourself and exercise caution." he cooed. Scorpius leaned forward and allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. He wasn't sure if he wanted to get on the train at this point…

Draco caught sight of Harry Potter off in the distance with all of his children bustling around him. Harry gave a polite nod. Draco held the back of Scorpius's head tenderly in comfort and returned the gesture with a slight smile. Harry turned his head to look for his own youngest son. He nudged Albus and pointed over to Scorpius, but Albus cast his eyes downward and went off with James, not sparing a second look. Something wasn't right. "If you change your mind and just want to come home," Draco whispered into Scorpius's ear, "all you have to do is just take my hand right now and we'll walk with our heads held high off the platform together. We'll go home, have tea, and talk about just doing a tutor instead." Draco let go of the embrace and held his hand out. Scorpius nervously appeared to be looking around. _Probably for Albus,_ Draco sadly thought to himself. The boy glanced back at the train. He sighed. Looking at his father with hope in his eye, he shook his head. Draco offered him a proud smile. "Please write," he reminded, helping Scorpius step up onto the train.

Scorpius gave one more look at the crowd, craning his neck and squinting. He figured that maybe if he couldn't see Albus, Albus would see him and come to him to find a compartment. He faced his father again. He could barely make out Draco's smiling face, but he blew a kiss to the shape and signed goodbye. The train whistle blew. Where was Albus? Scorpius knew he had to go have a seat in a compartment soon. He held onto the handrail on the step and looked around one more time. "L-L-Lo…v-v-ve…y-you," he called to his father. "I love you too, little one." he heard Draco reply. Scorpius stepped up carefully onto the platform of the train and slid a door open. He was off to go find Albus, and get a compartment with him.

As much as he'd hoped that he'd feel a familiar tap on his shoulder, or smell the pine and jasmine wrap him into a hug, it didn't happen. The train gave a lurch—it must've been moving. Scorpius suddenly felt very lost and a bit dizzy—his terrible vision wasn't going to be aided by being on a rickety traincar. Perhaps Albus would search every compartment until he found him? He pulled on a door and was relieved to smell, hear, or vaguely see no one else in that compartment. He sat down on the seat and drew his legs close to him. Albus would be here soon. In the meantime, it wouldn't hurt to maybe close his eyes and get some sleep…

When Scorpius awoke, he could feel that the train was slowing. There was no way they could be coming to the station already, was there?! He groggily opened his eyes and rubbed them. His compartment was cold, empty. He breathed in to try and find a familiar scent or maybe smell if someone had left him chocolate or sweets and would be back once they had to collect their trunks. But nothing. Scorpius peered out the window and strained his eyes—he could see that they were indeed at the Hogsmeade station. He must've slept through the whole ride. No matter. Perhaps Albus didn't want to disturb him so he went off with his cousins. Scorpius gingerly stood up when the train stopped. He made his way out of the compartment but was practically stampeded by hundreds of people streaming down the hallways to the exit. He allowed for himself to be jostled around with the crowd. He couldn't ever find the exit on his own. Where was Albus? He'd never, _ever_ had to get off the train alone—not even as a first year. Albus had always been there with him. Always.

Scorpius stumbled off the train platform and onto the stone ground of the station. He quickly turned to his right. He just wanted to be out of that _mass_ of people…. He made his way down the ground a few paces, following the overhead lanterns' glowing golden light. "Oi, Malfoy!" a thundering voice called out. He stopped in his tracks and looked around to try to find out who was calling him—it wasn't the gentle voice of Albus Potter, that was for sure. Scorpius felt a large hand come down on his tiny shoulder. "Malfoy, yer headed the wrong way, lad!" Hagrid. That smell of brandy and spice and dirt and musk gave him away instantly. "Come on, up yeh get on th' right path, let's go." He led the boy in the other direction and helped him down the stairs. "Y'lright, boy?" he asked. As soon as he looked into Scorpius's eyes though, it seemed like he remembered something. "Ohhh right…nearly forgot about yer trouble last year. Yeh had us all scared to death! Blimey, it's a miracle yeh came back! Good on yeh, boy." He pointed in the direction of the castle, assuring Scorpius that they were almost there.

Scorpius figured that once he got into the corridors of Hogwarts, it would all get easier. The sounds and smells would give him better directions than a tiny train compartment. He was wrong. He did manage to find the Great Hall (he wasn't completely blind, after all) and he was very pleased to eat as much as he could in the feast now that his feeding tube was gone. But getting down to the Slytherin dormitories was treacherous. He hoped, prayed, expected for Albus to come take his arm and walk with him. He could've sworn that as he left the Great Hall, he caught a soft drift of pine, jasmine, and mahogany on the air. But the smell didn't linger. Just as he was beginning to panic as he fell behind the group of students heading to their House, he felt two people come beside him and grab his arms. "We've got you, Scorp." a voice said. A male voice. A familiar voice. "I'll be your seeing eye for classes too," a female said. "But don't expect that to mean I'll let you beat me on any exams." Suddenly Scorpius felt relieved—James and Rose had come to his rescue. Perhaps Albus was with them! He allowed himself to be guided towards the Slytherin dormitory. "Can you see color?" Rose asked, ever curious. Scorpius nodded and half-shrugged. "Bright colors though? Are brighter colors easier to see?" she went on. Scorpius nodded fully this time—the lights and lanterns and brightly colored banners stood out to him most of all in the haziness. Rose clapped her hands. "That's it then—that the solution. If you were to have a brightly colored drape or flag outside of your House entrance and at the doors to your classes, you'd be able to find your way around better. I'm going to McGonagall right now about it. It'll be sorted by morning." They were at the entrance now. The cold, damp air felt oddly like home to him. He stepped in and waved goodbye to his friends, grateful that they'd come all this way just to ensure he made it safely. But where was Albus?

He stumbled up to his dormitory and found his bed thankfully. As soon as he got there, he crept to the fourposter beside his and tugged the curtains open. Jasmine, pine, mahogany, mint. The smell filled the air and made his heart soar. He smiled. Albus was here. However a hand came over his and pulled the curtain closed again. "Not now," he heard Albus growl. What? What was that? Scorpius tried again—perhaps Albus didn't know realize it was him. "Scorpius, get out!" There was no mistake this time. "A-A-Al…b-bus…?" he asked quietly.

"I can't…I just can't, alright? Please leave me alone."

"B-B-But…"

"No, 'but' nothing! I can't look at you. It just…reminds me of too much pain."

Scorpius was completely taken aback—he'd always been told that he was Albus's happiness, the bright spot in his day. What had changed? And why did Albus seem so upset with him specifically? "I-I-I'm hap-p-p-p-y to s-see y-y-you…" he feebly offered. He heard Albus set a book down on the bed and sigh. "Every time I look at you, I see your _dead body_. Alright? Like that for honesty? Every time you talk, I _cringe_ because I know that I caused your speech to be like that. I'm so angry about what happened between us. It was a stupid thing to do. So just…go away and don't torture me anymore." Scorpius couldn't even try to say any words. He was stunned. Albus didn't want him. Albus was angry with him. Scorpius's mind raced, a million things flying about and crashing into his brain sending sparks of emotions everywhere. And suddenly, his brain went to a very dark place. "I-I…s-should b-b-be…t-the one…m-m-m-mad at y-you." he snarled. Whoa. Why did that come out? He didn't mean for it to sound like he was blaming Albus for what happened that night in the Room of Requirement—he was trying to say that he was angry that Albus abandoned him all day. But he felt Albus go rigid.

There was now a different feeling in the atmosphere within that fourposter. "Oh don't pretend you didn't love it. You loved every single moment of when we were together. You craved more and you were practically _begging_ for it. Whatever happened, it wasn't me acting alone." Albus shot back. Scorpius dug his nails into the blankets it pure frustration. "W-We…w-w-were…in l-l-l-love!" he reasoned, still not able to drive his point home. Albus snorted. "And look where it got us! You're an invalid now. I'm honestly surprised you could come back to school."

"I-I w-w-worked h-hard."

"Worked hard. Worked hard?! You spent the entire summer 'working' with Teddy and I wouldn't be surprised if you had so much a craving for what we did, you got it from him too."

Scorpius froze. Now Albus was being just plain mean. He was hurt. And Scorpius knew that he was responsible for that pain because of a simple miscommunication. Was that why he'd avoided him all day? He was jealous? Scorpius's eyes filled with tears—he could tell Albus noticed because he felt him soften a bit. But not all the way. "Just go to your own bed. Perhaps you'll be able to remember how to write a letter to him, since apparently you forgot how to write to me all summer." So that was it. Pure jealousy. Anger. Frustration. Fear. Abandonment. Albus was blaming himself for what happened last term and was taking _everything_ personally. There was so much Scorpius wanted to say. So much. He wanted to beg Albus to understand that the stroke wasn't his fault—he wanted to comfort his clearly emotionally wounded friend. But he couldn't. He slid off the bed slowly and onto the floor. Scorpius ducked his head into his arms. He cried. Cried so hard. Everything was awful—he'd left his father and home to return to the comforts of his true love to continue on a life of normalcy. But it was all crushed.


	42. Chapter 42

Scorpius fumed.

For days, he fumed over the way that Albus treated him.

Because it wasn't just the frustration of his love rejecting him, it was the frustration of everything in his entire life going wrong.

Scorpius hated it, but he found himself having thoughts about the world being better off if he jumped from the top of the astronomy tower. His father wouldn't have to worry about him, Albus wouldn't have to be so let down, he could be with his mother…

But he was too afraid. Afraid of the fall. Afraid of the jump. Afraid of dying again.

Scorpius spent a lot of time in his bed—he often didn't even go to classes. He hated, _hated_ that he couldn't see well, or talk, or answer questions and win his House points. And there was inexplicable, absolutely flaming _rage_ inside him constantly.

To hell with the Healers. To St. Mungo's. To the Muggle doctors. To medicine. To hell with all of them. He just wanted so badly to be free of all of this. Physical limitations—the damn physical limitations he had all his life?! It was too much. Too long! Scorpius swung a fist at his pillow in anger. The fury inside of him was causing him to shake. He'd lost everything, _everything_ in his entire life and yet was forced to live trapped inside a body that couldn't conquer any of it. Scorpius tossed himself onto his back and stared upward at the hazy ceiling. He'd never felt this enraged in his life. And yet everything was just _driving him mad_…

Scorpius decided it was time to take matters into his own hands. If he died, he died. It was a better way to go than jumping from the top of a building. If he lived though, he'd be free…

Scorpius dug under his crumpled pillow for a scrap of paper he'd torn out of someone's abandoned copy of the Daily Prophet a while ago. He had to read it closely to be able to see the words clearer, but that small block of words had caught his attention. "Christoph Carven—the Fixer of All Problems" The headline itself caused him to raise an eyebrow. As he'd struggled through reading it, he came to realize that this Christoph Carven had a small shop in Knockturn Alley that was only there to serve those who were in desperate need for their "problems" to go away. Scorpius had done _extensive _research over the past few days about this place, this person. He was intrigued. This "fixer" had a knack for performing some—slightly—illegal magic with some—mildly—outlawed potions that could change time, alter a person, cause someone to "accidentally" pass away, or disappear. Scorpius was interested in the alterations part. He spent several nights awake wondering if there was a chance he himself could be "altered". If he could be changed into someone more normal.

However, a voice in the back of his head screamed that this was bad, illegal, and Dark. And there was a very good chance that he could be kidnapped and killed in a place as dangerous and shady as Knockturn Alley. But as soon as he heard Albus's soft breath coming from the bed beside his, he changed his mind. He wanted to be normal. He was a burden on everyone. This was going on for too long. And he was purely frustrated.

So Scorpius devised a plan on one of his sleepless nights. He would creep out of the castle one Saturday, go to Hagrid's, and convince him to let him use his Floo to go to Diagon Alley. From there, he could escape and go to the dark shop and have his work done. It was going to be difficult to lie. Tricking Hagrid was not something he necessarily wanted to do. But this was all that mattered to Scorpius—changing his fate, changing his own life. So that was exactly what he did—he went straight to Hagrid's hut that Saturday and brought a note with him (since speaking wasn't exactly the easiest) that simply read:

_I'm not feeling well. I've already written my dad and he needs to meet me at Diagon Alley to bring me to the apothecary to get the medicine I need. It's Muggle medicine. Will you please, please let me use your Floo to get there? I won't be long._

Scorpius felt pangs of guilt flying over him as he handed the note to the giant. Hagrid's kind eyes filled with pity and sadness. "Mr. Malfoy, yeh know I can't….but…if yeh…alright, just…promise me yeh won't say a word to anyone, alright?" he said in a hushed voice. Scorpius nodded gratefully, putting on his best adorable eyes. Within minutes he was crumpled into Hagrid's chimney, a handful of floo dust in Hagrid's hand. He tossed it over the boy with a shout of the destination.

Scorpius appeared in Diagon Alley and instantly pulled his cloak over his head. He didn't want to be seen. Scooting quickly through crowds, he followed a dark pathway leading down into Knockturn Alley. He'd never been here. But he'd heard how creepy it could be. As soon as he started feeling frightened though, he called upon that frustration he'd been feeling since he was little with how hopeless his situation was. Ah. The dark door, covered with blinking spiders locked into gray webs. It loomed in a corner. Scorpius pushed on it with trembling hands. Perhaps this wasn't the best or safest idea…

He walked carefully inside the dark room—it smelled of dust, mildew, blood…? Scorpius felt a chill pass through him. It was very dark and very cold inside. "Come," a scratchy old voice beckoned from ahead. Scorpius was definitely having second thoughts now. And who would come rescue him? No one knew where he was. He'd lied, he'd slipped out. Would anyone care though? Albus wouldn't come looking for him. His father wouldn't even know he was gone. He didn't have anyone else…

"A boy," the scratchy voice went on hoarsely. "A lonely, lonely boy." Scorpius gulped. "A boy with no one. A boy…with…a hole in his brain, and a larger hole in his heart." Scorpius stopped walking and froze on the spot. How did the stranger know about him? He felt a cold, bony hand touch his shoulder. "So sad." the voice whispered in his ear. "He's…an _invalid_." Scorpius's heart ached. Hearing those words which Albus Potter had called him stung even worse. _Just fix me,_ he thought as he squeezed his eyes closed in fear. _Just get it over with and fix me._

"You have many things to fix, boy." What? How did he hear… "Yes. Your thoughts. I can hear them. Have you paid attention in school, boy? Occlumency is more prevalent than you think."

_So…you can hear me and I don't have to speak?_

"That's correct. Because…your speech is…sub-par."

_It was an accident that made me this way._

"An accident? Or some spontaneous frivolous affair with someone of your own sex?"

…_Does it matter?_

"It does. Because you need to have learned your lesson. Boys shouldn't be playing with other boys. Do you understand the price you'll pay?"

_I…don't care. Just do it quick and give me back my voice, my sight, and my mobility._

"Payment is due at time of…service."

_I brought money._

"For things like this…you'll need to pay with more than galleons. You understand that you'll need to bear the burden you've put on others with your conditions—feel physical pain in return for all they've given to you. The hero's son, the misunderstood father, the broken mother, the werewolf's child, the liability of the headmistress…It won't be an easy procedure, boy. It'll be painful. It will require several…less-than-legal potions and a series of spells that…are not to be repeated outside of these walls. Do you understand that?"

_Whatever it takes._

"Whatever it takes to get your precious boy back."

…_It doesn't matter._

"All this for love. For unrequited love. That boy is going to hurt you. He won't keep you for long."

_This isn't just about him. I've had my life stolen from me ever since I was born. I was robbed of everything normal. All that precious time I had with my mother was wasted with me being sick in bed. Everything I could've learned with my father was shut away when I couldn't see or hear. Who knows what I could become in the future but will never be because of my conditions? Fix me. Let me have control of my life for once._

"Anger. You're angry. Angry at the world, at your situation…at your mother?"

…_I'd never be…_

"She's the one who passed this illness and weakness down to you, you know."

_It isn't like she meant to._

"But she did. Consider…sending a curse to her extended family. I can make it happen. Get back at them, send them ill will. For everything her bloodline did to you."

_Don't hurt anyone but me. Just fix me. No one else._

"Well…that might cost you then. All that anger will equate to more pain in the…procedure. You've hurt many people, after all."

_Then let me bear that pain. Just…end this for me. All of this._

"…Hand over your money, boy."

Scorpius dug into his robe's pocket and pulled out a sack of galleons—he'd taken it from home before leaving for school just in case he needed fare to get home in an emergency. He placed the sack into the cold hand. He suddenly saw the face of that raspy voice so close to his ears. A horrible, gaunt, skeleton face with leather skin stretched across bones and eyes that gleamed orange. The voice chuckled evilly. "Disrobe," it ordered. "We'll start by fixing those pretty nerves of yours…" Within seconds, Scorpius felt like a thousand hands tore his clothes from his body, exposing his flesh to the icy cold darkness surrounding them. He was pushed onto a gurney, cold and metal. His heart hammered in his chest—this was _not_ like St. Mungo's. He looked over to his side where a metal cart held rusty instruments; scalpels, needles, drills, already bloodied bandages…. Scorpius was suddenly extremely afraid. This was a mistake. This was a bad idea. He shouldn't have done this. Something was binding around his ankles, around his wrists. There wasn't any escaping now. Suddenly he felt a very sharp excruciating pain dig its way into his hip. He let out a scream.

"Oh come on now, boy. Lonely boy. Sad boy. It can't be that bad." the raspy voice hissed. Scorpius felt an icy liquid being poured onto his chest—so cold that it hurt. "We're only _just getting started_."


	43. Chapter 43

Scorpius couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't open his eyes. He was in searing pain—there wasn't a single inch of his body that didn't feel like it was ripped to shred. Christoph had cut him so many times with the scalpel and injected him with so many potions, it felt like he wasn't even in his own body anymore. Scorpius dry heaved from the intense pain. He was beyond tears, beyond crying. He couldn't even move. He just laid there, vomit seeping from his mouth, eyes half-closed, limbs tied yet weak. This was such a mistake. He didn't feel an ounce better like he'd been promised. He actually felt closer to death than ever. He wanted this to be over. "Oh, lonely boy," Christoph rasped. "Shall we finish this off? Do you even want to heal and face your consequences? Or would you rather we just…put an end to this?"

Scorpius so badly wanted this all to be over. He was ashamed of his choice to turn to a darker, illegal form of magic to try to help him. He hated himself for the pain he'd caused other people. He hated that he still wanted nothing more than to be in Albus's arms right now…

Maybe it would just be better if he was killed off right then and there.

Scorpius could hear something rhythmically dripping onto the stone floor beneath the gurney. A wavering thought crossed his mind—that was his own blood dripping. "H-H…" he began softly, with all the strength he could muster. He had to have been on this gurney for hours now. "H-Heal…me…" he whispered. A growl sounded from somewhere. "And you'll fully accept what's going to happen to you…?" the crackling voice went on. Shivering in pure fear, cold, and loss of blood, Scorpius gave a nod. Another searing pain shot from his chest. _Scorpius,_ a soft voice came from inside his head. A woman's voice. _Scorpius!_ Now a man's voice. He opened his eyes slightly and very hazily saw ethereal images standing above him. The woman…was his mother! But the man…? _Scorpius, something very very bad is about to happen, _she said worriedly. _And it will not define, break, or ruin you. As long as you stay strong._ The man stepped a bit closer too—he had scars across his face, but familiar kind and empathetic eyes as he began speaking. _Your mum and I are going to do our best to ensure that…you don't remember this,_ he said. Scorpius felt the restraints tugging his legs up off the gurney. _You've made a terrible choice, coming here. _Astoria looked fearful, angry, and broken—but her voice was pleading. _Scorpius, when you get back to Hogwarts, go to Albus immediately. He'll take you to the hospital wing. It's imperative—these incisions are not sanitary. He'll look after you in the best way._ Scorpius looked at the oddly familiar man beside her. In his head, he weakly asked who this person was. The man sadly smiled. _We've talked many times at Hogwarts, Scorpius, though I'm not there in person. It's…me, Mr. Lupin. My son took such good care of you this year. I'm here with your mum now because I need for you to listen to her, and to me, for your own good. This is so important._ Scorpius felt the gurney rock, as if another person was on it too. _Listen Scorpius, you are _not_ a monster for what other people force upon you,_ Lupin firmly said, _and you never will be. Not for any reason. I believed that I was completely undesirable too but I promise you, there is nothing that will ever make you monster on the inside because you're so good. You truly are. You need to remember that there isn't anything about yourself you need to change for any reason. Please don't ever try to alter yourself again. It's dangerous and not worthwhile._ Scorpius hazily realized that the raspy voice was close to him, at his ear. "Your consequence…" it whispered bitterly. "will be something you bear forever—a taint on your name, your family. A disregard for custom and tradition."

_Don't listen to him, Scorpius. This isn't your fault._ Astoria begged.

"Poor boy…. Thinking that he could become better, just for love. How lonely and pathetic."

_Love conquers all, remember that from all the stories we read?_ Astoria desperately reminded him.

"And in addition to this personal defilement you'll have to carry for the rest of your life, you're going to be responsible for the end of your own bloodline. Never will you be able to create a child of your own. As soon as I cast this spell, you'll be sterile forever. You'll be the end of the Malfoy name. How disappointed your grandmother and grandfather will be. All of your great ancestors."

_Blood is not family. You can still be a father and husband without being able to have a child of your own. _Lupin assured.

"Now…be a good boy…"

_Scorpius, this isn't your fault. _Astoria repeated.

"And prepare to part with the gift of innocence you were to save for your pureblood spouse…"

_You're alright, Scorpius. You're alright. We're not leaving you. Be strong._

Scorpius's eyes fell closed and his world went pitch black.

When he first began regaining some feeling in his fingertips and toes, Scorpius realized he was coming to. What on earth had just happened? He couldn't remember a thing—the last he knew, he was just in unimaginable pain and had blacked out after throwing up. How did he…end up here, on the floor of…some dingy pub? Ohhhh…moving _ached_ so badly. Every single one of his muscles was sore—his skin felt like it was on fire. But wait…his hand. His left hand. He could move it. He could actually move it! He opened his eyes fully, squinting in the dim light. He could…see! There weren't just hazy shapes anymore—he could make out that he was on a wood floor, behind some rickety chairs, beside a…fireplace! A floo portal! There was a bag of floo powder in the corner of the fireplace—he reached for it, wincing as sore muscles screamed that they wanted rest. He crawled desperately into the fireplace. Some hooded figures peeked around their cloaks to look at him. But could he speak? Every bone in his body screamed in protest of moving; he raised his arm to drop the powder over himself…thought out his destination…and shouted…

"Rubeus Hagrid's home!"

As shocked as he was to instantly end up in the fireplace of the Hogwarts gamekeeper, he was even more surprised that he'd just said three words aloud without stuttering! He coughed as soot and ash plumed into the air around him—instantly he felt big strong arms yanking him out and cradling him. "Are yeh alright, boy?" a bellowing voice cried out. "Been waiting on yeh fir hours! I was 'fraid somethin' had happened!" Suddenly Scorpius had a flash of memory—a memory of his mother's voice pleading for him to go to no one but Albus as soon as he returned to Hogwarts. "Albus, I need Albus!" he gasped. Hagrid shifted him in his arms. Ouch, everything _really_ hurt. "Alright, alright, relax boy. D'yeh really want to go back to yer dormitory? Maybe yeh need to bring yer new medicine to Madame Pomfrey first?" Scorpius shook his head wildly. Something was burning within him and telling him to go to Albus Potter. Hagrid agreed to carry him over to the castle and at least get him a little closer. To him, Scorpius was still stroke-ridden and ill.

Scorpius hated how it hurt so badly just to walk—why were his legs so sore? He tore into his dormitory and collapsed at the foot of Albus's bed. At this point, he didn't even care if other people were around. "Albus, Albus!" he cried out. "Help! Help me!" Oh thank god, the curtains actually opened. Scorpius had never been so happy to see that cross and disgruntled face. But suddenly, Albus's eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. He flew out of bed and grabbed Scorpius. "What on earth—" he began, but seemed lost for words. "W-What—how—Scorpius Malfoy, why are you—so—_bloody?_" He was bloody? He hadn't seen himself yet. Scorpius reached out and allowed himself to be caught into the boy's arms. "I made…Albus, I made such a mistake….please help me…I'm so sorry…" he sobbed as the pain from moving intensified even more. Wordlessly, Albus grabbed him and hurriedly dragged his body into the bathroom—this was bad.

Albus threw the hot water tap on into a bath. He quickly helped Scorpius to undress, but gasped when he saw what laid under the boy's shirt. "What the hell…" he whispered. "What did you _do?_" Scorpius glanced down—his chest was raked with long cuts sealed by haphazard stitches. "Did you do this to yourself?!" he shouted now. Scorpius shook his head quickly and grabbed Albus's arms. "No! No, I didn't! I promise. Albus…I ran away and I…I went to this illegal healer in Knockturn Alley. He said if I paid him, he'd take away all of the problems that came about with my stroke. I did pay him, but I had to suffer extra, he said, because I've been such a burden on other people for my entire life. And now look at me—look! I'm talking, I'm walking, I can wave my hand! I'm fine now, Albus! It worked!" But as eager as Scorpius was to see Albus's overjoyed face, he didn't get to.

Albus was frozen at first, but then looked stone-cold angry. "YOU DID _WHAT?!_" he roared. Scorpius shivered—this bathroom was cold. "Scorpius Malfoy! Tell me you didn't do that!" Albus immediately threw the water tap off when the bath became full. He finished stripping away the rest of his robes and practically shoved Scorpius into the tub. The water almost immediately turned crimson. "Aaaahhh…oww…Albus…it hurts to sit…!" Scorpius groaned. Albus stilled again, his eyes wary. "You're so bloody stupid, Scorpius." he muttered, immediately reaching for a sponge and some soap. He roughly lathered the sponge and plunged it back into the water. With an unexpected gentleness, he cleaned the blood from Scorpius's tensed skin. "So stupid. So bloody stupid." he growled as he worked. Scorpius remained silent—he was just grateful that the heat of the water was relaxing his muscles and providing some mild relief to the excruciating pain.

It was a very, very long time before either of them spoke again. Albus spent a good amount of time washing his apparent wounds, and gently cleaning the blood out of his thin strands of hair. He gently brushed a thumb across the pale cheek in thoughtfulness. They met eyes. But Albus removed his hand and looked away quickly. "_Why,_ Scorpius?" he quietly murmured. Scorpius looked down at the bloody bathwater. "I…just wanted to be free from all that…illness holding me back—"

"Are you that naïve? Don't you know what could've happened to you? You could've been kidnapped, tortured, murdered!"

"It…it worked, though—"

"Scorpius those illegal healers use _really_ unsafe practices! They're _really bad people!_ You walked right into the trap they'd set for you and gave them your money! There's a reason why you went to only St. Mungo's all your life, and even had Muggle surgery instead of your father bringing you to some place like that! Don't you understand what _could've happened?!_"

"I'm…sorry…"

"You're sorry. You're _sorry!_ Scorpius—I—you—bloody hell, I could've _lost_ you!" Albus looked choked up now.

"I…I just didn't want to be held back by my health anymore. My stroke wasn't your fault and you felt that it was no matter what I did. My dad thought he'd given me some sort of curse when I was born because of how ill I was. I just…I was tired of hurting the people I loved with my own problems."

"You…" Albus sighed, half-frustrated and half-grief stricken. "Scorpius, I still…I loved you no matter what…I…I loved taking care of you, and—and watching you progress, and being there for you. I…Scorpius I never needed for you to change."

"But _I_ needed to. _I_ had to take things into _my_ own hands. I didn't want to be so ill anymore. It was my…choice."

"It was so dangerous!"

"It worked. I'm better now."

Albus sighed. He looked so scared, so baffled, so sad… "Scorpius those are tricky people. You never just come out of there with only an empty wallet. They…they do dark magic to patients just to make them 'pay'."

"We discussed that. I'm…he said I…I won't be able to produce my own children. He wanted the Malfoy bloodline to end. And have me be the cause of that. I'll have to carry that shame and guilt with me now for eternity."

"You _bonehead!_ You don't even need to have children! Don't you understand? You and I can't have kids if we're both men—we're going to adopt anyway!"

Scorpius blushed bright red. So Albus…saw a future with him? He looked away to hide his embarrassment. This was the first time they'd ever talked about a future.

"He knew that, Scorpius, and I'm sure he cursed you with something worse to make up for it!"

"I-I…I don't know. There's some parts I don't remember."

Albus froze again, staring at the boy in front of him. "You…can't remember?" he asked slowly. Scorpius shrugged. "I think I blacked out from the pain. I woke up in some pub and that's all I know." Albus let out a deep breath. He did _not_ like how this sounded. _Anything_ could've happened to Scorpius while he was unconscious and in the presence of a very vile and tricky person. "Let's go to Madame Pomfrey," he said quietly. "I don't have a good feeling about this." Scorpius pulled his arm away (ow, still sore). "N-No! We can't! She'll write my dad and tell him and if he finds out, he'll kill me!"

"Better him than some stranger that's out for your blood, you colossal idiot!" Albus shouted. He couldn't believe Scorpius had been so naïve as to think that paying a visit to an outlawed healer would just mean giving a large sum of money for some illegal spells to be performed in order to fix his shortfalls. Scorpius fell quiet.

Albus held his arms out with a towel open in them. "Come on," he encouraged, gentler now. Scorpius painfully got up out of the tub and allowed himself to be wrapped in the softness. Albus carefully patted it over the tender, sewed-up skin that would surely be left with scars. "Albus?" came a small voice. "W-What if…something bad _did_ happen, and I…can't remember?" Albus pulled him back to look into the eyes of the now clearly frightened boy. He sighed. "Then we fix it the right way." he assured. There was a pause as the two met eyes—clearly they were both afraid, and faced with unavoidable mystery. Scorpius dressed into his robes with a little assistance. He swung his arm around his friend's shoulder to have some support as he walked because all of those aches and pains were coming right back. They approached the hospital wing slowly and carefully. Just outside the door, Scorpius stopped Albus. He was suddenly not just ashamed of his recent choices, but also very very afraid of what the actual consequences were going to be. "Will you stay with me…no matter what?" he feebly asked with a faltering voice. Albus bit his lip, closed his eyes, and suddenly pressed his forehead against Scorpius's. "_Always,_" he whispered. They opened the door.


	44. Chapter 44

Albus sat outside the hospital wing for a very long time, waiting until Madame Pomfrey would allow him back in. He felt so many things—anger, horror, shock, sadness, pain, relief…it was all weighing upon him so heavily. He couldn't imagine what Scorpius had been feeling to go through what he did. How could he think that that was the only way to get help? Albus mentally beat himself up for pushing Scorpius away when he probably needed someone the most; why was he so selfish?

Madame Pomfrey's heels clicked, approaching him outside the door. "You can go in, but I want to do a blood sample soon so make it quick." she said in her bustling way. Albus hurried over to Scorpius's bedside. "Are you alright?" he asked immediately. Scorpius was looking down at his blanketed knees on the bed, and he turned bright red when his friend came close. "It's…" he began quietly, "It's not…good." Albus furrowed his brow, saying nothing as he reached out and took the boy's wrist. Scorpius swallowed hard. "M-Madame Pomfrey…said…that while I was unconscious…" He drew in a shaky breath. "…I'm n-not…keeping with pureblood custom, against my own wishes, of course….but…my dad's going to be _so devastated_…" Albus gently rubbed the bony hand with his thumb, wishing he could just take away whatever pain Scorpius was now faced with. He'd been through so much. He hoped and prayed that there wouldn't be any new ailments added—it just wasn't fair. "I'm…I'm not going to be…_pure_…for my wedding night…" he whispered, breaking into tears. Albus set his jaw. This was exactly what he was afraid had happened—and his nightmare was coming true. "I-I don't remember anything!" Scorpius cried out, tears streaming. "I don't even remember it happening and yet I'm completely ruined for life and when my father finds out he'll be so _ashamed_…"

In a way, Albus was quite glad that Scorpius didn't remember anything. It might aid him in his healing process. However, he now understood what the boy meant when he'd said that the healer had wanted to make him suffer by "carrying a burden of guilt" for the rest of his life. Albus immediately climbed onto the bed, taking Scorpius gently into his arms. "Hey, shhhh…" he cooed lovingly. "Shhh…it's alright. It really is. I promise you. None of that matters, it really doesn't matter. You're not disappointing anyone, it wasn't your choice. Scorpius, you don't even have to tell your dad, honestly. If this is something you want to keep private, it's your right to do so. And as far as I'm concerned, that doesn't count. You're still completely pure to me. And no one ever has to know." Scorpius hiccupped, rubbing his eyes clear. He cocked his head. Albus offered a sad smile. "Yeah, for real. No one has to know. Ever. It's your business and you're not obligated to report every single thing to your dad—you're growing up and that's ok. I don't tell my dad everything. And you're still…Scorpius, I'll still consider you one-hundred percent 'pure' until our wedding night. I promise."

'_Our'_ wedding night?

Scorpius blushed again but tried to hide it by wiping his face. He tried to smile back. "So…it didn't…happen?" he feebly asked. Albus shook his head and put a hand on Scorpius's cheek. "If Madame Pomfrey didn't tell you, you wouldn't know it happened, and I don't consider you 'ruined'. So if we carry on and continue to be strong, we can get through this." he encouraged. Scorpius nodded, sitting up a little straighter. Part of him felt very very glad he didn't remember anything either. Madame Pomfrey bustled back in, carrying a set of needles and some small tubes. "Off, Potter, _off!_" she bumbled, swatting at him with some bandages. "Can't have him getting anything infected, those wounds are deep enough!" Albus let go of Scorpius, but stayed nearby. He hated the sight of blood but this was no time to be abandoning his friend. "Hold still," Madame Pomfrey instructed, baring his right arm and preparing to put a needle into a vein. Scorpius braced himself. The pinprick of the needle going in was nothing compared to the searing pain he'd been through previously. Albus felt himself getting a little clammy at the sight, so he quickly turned his head away.

After only a few seconds, Madam Pomfrey withdrew the needle and stared at the glass vial she'd collected. "What on earth…" she began slowly. Now Albus was curious. He turned to see her again, and watched as she held the vial up to the light. Scorpius squinted. The blood looked so…odd. It was almost white on the bottom. Wait. It _was_ white on the bottom—and spreading. Not spreading…_crystalizing_. Madame Pomfrey gasped. "_Ipsum glacie sanguis…_" she whispered. Scorpius's eyebrows raised as well; apparently he knew what that meant too. "B-But…how? I thought that spell only had a successful casting rate of thirteen percent?" he asked. She shook her head slowly. "It does," Albus looked between the pair of them. "Can someone explain to those of us who aren't as intellectually comparable what you're talking about?" he asked impatiently. "It's the freezing blood spell," she said as she held out the glass tube. "It's a very dark spell that is quite difficult to successfully cast upon someone. It causes a person's blood to become cold and carry ice crystals along with it. Those afflicted usually have a very difficult time feeling warmed, even in the desert."

Albus looked at Scorpius to gauge his reaction. His expression was blank. "It won't kill him, though. Right? It won't freeze him from the inside out?" Albus quickly asked. Madame Pomfrey shook her head. "It's not a killing spell. It's a torturing spell meant to cause great misery to the afflicted." Albus clutched Scorpius's hand. He didn't care if she saw. If anyone saw. He _had_ to make sure his boy was alright. But Scorpius offered a slight smile. "Anything is better than what was wrong with me before," he murmured.

Madame Pomfrey bustled off to consult her medical books to find the names of potions and herbs that could combat the sensation of the spell for her patient. Albus moved even closer to Scorpius once they were alone. "Are you sure you're alright?" he whispered, brushing some hair off his forehead. "You're sure you can handle this?" Scorpius nodded, giving his hand a squeeze. "I'll be alright. I would be…better…if I maybe had someone nearby to give me those warming hugs that he's so good at." he shyly replied. Albus broke into a grin and climbed onto the bed with him, pulling him into a wrapping embrace. "Oh, you adorable little flirt." he cooed, earning a shy giggle. He kissed the top of Scorpius's head. A bit of time passed as they stayed huddled together in silence. Finally, he quietly murmured an apology to his friend. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "For everything. For…giving you that firewhiskey, for causing your stroke, for…accusing you of being an easy shag, and for pushing you away when you needed me and I needed you. I guess my dad was right. Grief makes people lash out at those who don't deserve it." Scorpius shifted in his arms, pulling the quilt up closer to himself for warmth. "None of it was your fault. I made those decisions on my own. You and I…we may not make great choices, but we're partners in crime. We're good for one another in some odd way. You make me brave, strong, curious. First-year Scorpius was so timid and scared of everything. But now with everything you've done for me…I feel a bit more…settled. Affirmed. I'm…Malfoy the Unanxious!" he piped. Albus chuckled. "Alright, I wouldn't go that far." he joked. "But you're different, I think. You've matured. I just…I'm glad things worked out the way they did because I got to fall in love with you more and more throughout time."

Scorpius blushed again, and it felt like his cheeks were melting with the sudden rush of heat. Albus gave his head another kiss. "I'm sticking with you," he assured. "Through it all. Will you stick with me? I've got some work to do on myself and I can't do it without you by my side." Scorpius nodded, turning so that he was facing Albus's chest. He felt so much more calmed, relaxed, quelled. He'd been through a lot, and he was lucky enough to still have Albus by his side. He heard a heavy door open down the hall of the hospital wing. "Mr. Malfoy!" Madam Pomfrey called out. "I've just sent an owl to your father explaining your condition. When I hear back from him, I'll let you know how he wants to proceed with treatment." Scorpius glanced up at Albus nervously. Albus drew a deep breath. "You can handle this," he assured. Scorpius gulped.

Could he?


	45. Chapter 45

**Well, this is the last chapter, so I suppose it's time I introduce myself. I'm a medical student that's about a year and a half away from residency. Primarily, I work in pediatrics and infectious disease (though my heart seems to have taken a home to ICU and trauma). I took an interest in Harry Potter when I was touched by a patient who could literally talk about absolutely nothing else—in order to be able to connect with him more, I started reading and getting back into it. And once I got through the Cursed Child, I was filled with ideas of my own. I hope you've enjoyed this story and I thank you very much for sticking with me through forty-five chapters and nearly 100,000 words. For being so patient and loyal, you are the Albus to my Scorpius.**

* * *

~10 years later~

Albus took a deep breath and rolled over onto his side sleepily. Saturday morning. Finally, a morning he didn't have to get up and go to work, see patients, follow up on recent research. He could relax. Sleep in. Reach over and put an arm around his sweet husband to warm him with gentle cuddles—

"Dad?" A small voice squeaked. Albus opened his eyes now and looked down from his pillow.

His little son stared back up at him with gleaming eyes and a hopeful smile. As soon as he realized that his father was awake, he squirmed his way up closer to him so that he too could have morning cuddles and attention. "Shhh…" Albus whispered. "We must be quiet so we can let Daddy sleep," Beside him, Scorpius stirred but didn't wake. The child hugged his stuffed toy while he accepted a kiss on his head. "Pancakes, Dad?" he asked, apparently not understanding that Albus wanted Scorpius to stay asleep a little longer. He sighed. No more sleeping in for him today. He got out of bed and carried his little boy into the kitchen, chuckling when he clapped his hands gleefully. Albus sat him at the table. "Do you want some juice, Orion?" he asked while he made the motion in sign language. Scorpius had made it clear since before they even got married that he wanted their children to know sign language, just in case his own hearing ever got worse to the point of it being beyond repair. Orion nodded excitedly. Albus drew his wand—the kids got so enchanted when he did magic for them—and summoned a cup from the drying rack.

Scorpius and Albus got married almost immediately after they graduated Hogwarts. Albus, though he never expected himself to, became a Healer at St. Mungo's. He realized in his sixth year that he spent so much time taking care of his best friend, he'd become very good at understanding the conditions and treatments for ailments. He'd never been particularly strong in his studies, but once he moved into more specialized subjects and training, he realized it came easier to him than he could've expected. Scorpius had to take quite a bit of time after graduating to rebuild his strength and health—while dealing with his icy blood curse, he was also plagued with recurrent infections from the cuts made into his body by the illegal Healer. No matter how many times he was treated, the wounds seemed to continuously make him sick for years after. However, he was very pleased to be walking and talking just like normal. A year after their marriage, Albus and Scorpius decided together that they wanted to begin raising children. Since Scorpius couldn't have his own, Albus didn't want him to feel left out of the chance of giving life to the little ones they'd dreamed of. So they came to the agreement that instead of having a surrogate, they'd adopt orphaned magical children. They first adopted a baby boy from an Irish orphanage and named him Orion; keeping within family custom for Scorpius. Once he turned two, they realized that it was time for another so that he could have someone to play and interact with. They next adopted little Leo from a Ukrainian orphanage for magical children. And they didn't expect to, but they came across adopting a little girl as well—their youngest, Lyra. It was quite a full house and an unexpectedly growing family. But it was all they'd dreamed of. There wasn't any other way they'd have it.

So now as four-year-old Orion sipped his juice carefully and watched his dad begin brewing a potion over the stove, he asked aloud if he could help make Lyra's bottle this morning. He _loved_ following adults around and 'helping' them with grown-up things. Albus smiled. "Can you fetch the bottle out of the wash?" he requested. Any degree of assistance made the boy feel like a hero. Almost as if on cue, a cry broke out from a distant room. "Sounds like she's ready for breakfast," Albus remarked. But Orion, the quickest a sharpest toddler Albus had ever met, immediately corrected him. "That's Leo, dad! Leo! Leo!" Albus set down his stirring rod and followed the cry into the nursery room. Orion was at his heels. He scooped the ambling two-year-old up into his arms with a gentle coo. "Good morning, baby." Leo was still sleepy, but had apparently awoken at the smell of breakfast being made. He was _always_ hungry. "Hi Leo," Orion piped in. Albus carried him out into the kitchen and sitting area to prepare his juice as well and get the pancakes started.

Just as he thought he had everything going under control, Orion alerted him when a bell went off from the cauldron, "Dad! The potion is ready!" Albus quickly removed it from the heat and poured some into a vial and the rest in a jar. "Can you go set this on Daddy's nightstand for me? Don't wake him up. Just set it there so he has it first thing when he wakes." he encouraged his son. Leo banged on the table with his fork. "Bird, bird bird!" he sang out loudly. He'd lately heard Albus and Scorpius using the word 'birthday' a bit (since Orion had just recently turned four) and was trying to mimic them. He just couldn't get the words out right. "Shhhh…" Albus reminded. He just wanted Scorpius to sleep. He really didn't know how his husband did it—he stayed home with the kids all day and played with them, cared for them, bathed them, fed them, changed their nappies, everything. Albus liked to take over the duty on the weekends so that Scorpius wouldn't overwork his fragile body.

But to his dismay, Orion came running back into the kitchen with more news to report. "Dad, I went in to put Daddy's potion there, but Daddy was waking up and he kissed me good morning and then he said he was going to go check on Lyra!" Albus sighed. Scorpius was always on top of the kids and never took time for a rest. He loved being a father too much. Bigger footsteps padded into the kitchen. "Good morning," a hoarse voice murmured. Albus smiled and stepped forward to kiss his husband. Scorpius was holding baby Lyra against his chest. Albus kissed her too. "Bottle's ready for her over there. Want me to feed her? Why don't you sit at the table and let me bring you tea? Oh, did you take your potion?" he went on. Scorpius chuckled. "Love, I'm fine. I took the potion, I'm definitely going to feed the baby, and I really think you should focus on your pancake flipping skills instead because those are just bloody horrendous." Albus laughed at his lopsided mess piled onto the plate. He was right.

So Scorpius settled into a chair between his toddler sons and cradled the baby, putting the bottle to her lips so she too could feed. "She's a petite girl for four months old," he remarked as she took her formula hungrily. "Tea! Tea! Tea!" Leo repeated. Albus sipped from his teacup and moved to gently rub his husband's shoulder. "How do you feel this morning?" he asked seriously. Some mornings were harder on Scorpius than others. The low body temperature he endured left his joints constantly achy and stiff, and he never really slept well. But Albus charmed his extra blankets on that side of the bed to stay heated all night so that the symptoms wouldn't be quite so bad. Scorpius shrugged and tried to smile. "I'll be alright today. It's going to be nice to have the whole family under one roof again. I can stay busy and forget about the rest." he replied.

Orion looked up from his pancakes (which were swimming in syrup) and asked through a mouthful, "Who's coming today, Dad?" Scorpius smiled at him when he noticed Orion had signed a few of the words in his question. Albus set his teacup down. "Grammy and Grandpa are coming, so are Auntie Lily and Auntie Rose, Uncle James will be here, _all_ of your cousins, and Grandfather will come too." he replied. Leo and Orion cheered excitedly to hear that they'd get to play with their cousins and see their favorite family members. Scorpius grinned at their joy. "It's very kind of you to host your dad's birthday party here at the Manor this year. I'm sure he appreciates your time and effort." he said. Albus shrugged. "We may not always get along, but I think he's happier now that we've overloaded him with grandchildren and he gets to feel like the hero all over again."

"He always gives the boys far too many sweets."

"Simply because I say not to,"

"Well, you just can't quell the need to save the day in someone like Harry Potter."

Albus rolled his eyes, but chuckled. Things between him and his father had gotten better, but they always butted heads every now and then. Draco had also initally struggled with the idea of letting Scorpius marry because he viewed it as giving his son away to someone else to care for a love him. It took a lot of convincing and many many conversations between him and Albus, him and Scorpius, and him and Harry. He couldn't deny though, that Albus was a perfect match for his son. And for that reason, he did support the marrying and starting a family.

Even though he did send an owl daily to check up on him.

Scorpius gave a little shiver as his baby girl finished her bottle and began crying to be changed. "I'll be right back," he announced. The inadvertent wince he made while getting up told Albus that he wasn't being entirely honest about his current pain level. He quickly followed Scorpius out of the room to catch him in the hallway privately. Lyra had stopped crying with the sensation of being rocked. Albus drew his wand and gently made a swift motion over Scorpius's robe, casting a warming charm that would help to dispel the aching chill. Scorpius gratefully smiled. He allowed for himself and the baby to be wrapped into a hug by Albus—this was still one of his favorite things ever. It was the best feeling in the entire world to go to sleep beside Albus every single night, to wake beside him with a few bumps of children sleeping between them often. It was everything Scorpius had wanted out of life. A life that he'd almost lost several times in his short span of years. "I love you," he murmured to Albus as he rested his head on his shoulder. He could practically feel his husband smiling. "Oh I love you too. It's hard to believe we've come so far ever since we met."

"We've had much to overcome. But we made it. And we're happy. I'm happy—you're—we're—wait, _we're_ happy—?"

"We're _all_ happy, you little geek." Albus replied, still reveling in the sweet awkwardness Scorpius seemed to retain through the years. He pressed a kiss onto the soft cheek beside his. Scorpius had really, really come a long way, as had he. It had all seemed to get better once they'd finally found each other.


End file.
